


Alternate Beginning: Endings of Old and Beginnings New

by TwoThings



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: All Hail Megatron, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Apocalypse, Autobots lose, Dark, Decepticon Empire, Decepticons Win, Dominance, End of the World, F/M, Human enslavement, bride kidnapping, establishing dominance, forced romance, robots who know nothing about taking care of humans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 63,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoThings/pseuds/TwoThings
Summary: It is HIGHLY suggested that Endings of Old and Beginnings New is read first.An alternate beginning in which Megatron finds Eleanor first, at the onset of his conquest of Earth. Takes place during All Hail Megatron comic run and mixes in Bayverse elements.This is a part of my EOBN Oneshots Series.





	1. Alternate Beginning - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Megatron, in this story, is not at all the one that I used for EOBN. I decided to use IDW's All Hail Megatron Incarnation instead to have some fun with it. I realise that this creates issues as far as continuities with Endings of Old and Beginnings New, but I wanted to have some fun *shrug*.
> 
> This beginning, though, does start with him breaking out of the Hoover Dam and nabbing the Allspark (Bayverse Elements) and then continues along through some of All Hail Megatron. If you have not read the comic, though, this story does not require that.
> 
> I do not own Transformers. Obviously.

Motion almost hurt. After being frozen for so long, joints, circuitry, and cables immobile, the feeling was almost foreign. His processor could control his frame once again, and with this ability he would take his revenge.

The Earth was ripe for his picking. He knew it was so, for it was the nature of humanity to be inferior.

His troops needed this romp after the all-but-assured victory over the Autobots. As he had discussed with Starscream on the trip from his wretched prison to this nest of fleshlings, the point was  _not_  that they could have annihilated the humans from space without getting their servos dirty. It was so that they could celebrate, bask in their victory by conquering a species meant to serve them, by annihilating an enemy that stood no chance.

More, he desired this as the perfect start to his Empire. Earth was energy-rich with an abundant supply of slaves - what better seat of power could suit him? Cybertron was gone, therefore they had to move forward.

However, there was the matter of earning his revenge. He wanted to inflict suffering with his servos, watch a formerly untouchable human leader fall apart under the crushing power of his fist. How slowly could he tear it limb from organic limb? How long until they could offer no more human Energon? How long could he keep it  _begging_  for death?

All of the humans' leaders would have to go anyway in order to sufficiently crush their spirits, to convince the stupid creatures that they were now property of the Decepticons and that Earth was theirs. The natural start would be… the American President. Squishies, as his mech called them, never lived lives longer than the shutter of an optic. Which did the United States have now?

As pathetic and simple the human "internet" was, Megatron's answer was waiting for him and it was not what he expected in the slightest. Eleanor Sherman, current President, with astonishingly familiar grey optics.

Circuitsia had that same shade, a fact that made his spark stutter in disbelief. His thirst for her reawakened, he scoured for footage of her speaking. Primus, how that sweet little voice called to him. So distant yet so similar. Could it be his Circuitsia reincarnated, just as she had promised she would be?

The thought of seeing her fragile frame unravel in his servos, watching her die in the palms that were tasked with guarding her in a mate's duty, made his tanks churn. The idea, which nanokliks ago was incredibly appealing, became unthinkable.

She was in serious danger, and his spark erased the stiffness of his joints in subconscious preparation for swift action. His mechs were ready to wreak havoc on her "Nation's Capital," and his sweetling's nest was right in the middle. Circuitsia could not be taken from him again.

She would be guarded by other humans, but none could keep her from him or any mech he sent. Even the smallest of the Allspark's creations could not be defeated by a human's simple handheld blaster. However, he could not leave to claim her. His disappearance at the start of the battle would be taken advantage of by certain… traitorous Seekers.

Ah. Thundercracker was unlikely to harm her. Skywarp would have been preferable for his speed in fetching his mate, but gentleness was not his forte. He did not want to have her injured or killed accidentally with warping either.

Like Pit he was going to trust Starscream. Thundercracker it was.

Firing one last blast at some passing jets, the warlord commed the blue Seeker and sent his orders. Soon his mate would be his once again, and for a glorious instant he shuttered his optics with bliss as fire surged around him.

* * *

When she had been alerted of the massive robots attacking New York City, fear had not been a thought. President Sherman had had no reason to worry that her military would not end the threat that they posed. It was surprising to her, obviously, that these odd beings had shown up to wreck New York, but it was not threatening in the slightest.

The enormous size of most of them was not remotely daunting. Their weapons were… disconcerting, but not overtly threatening. She was more worried about dealing with the  _aftermath_ of the present, rather than the present itself. The present was the military's problem, but the cleanup was hers.

How many people were  _dying_  as she was swarmed by aides and officers alike? How many would be  _dead_  by the  _end_  of this? How long would it take for them to heal those scars? Those were things that actually scared her.

Not to mention the fact that they were aliens, as had been explained to her less than fifteen minutes ago. The public,  _Earth_  as a whole, would need calming after this shocking revelation that humans were not alone in the universe.

Wilson's presence at her elbow settled her jittery nerves, as few as there were. She hadn't gotten this far, to this beautiful Oval Office, by being easily unnerved, let alone scared. That was what she kept telling herself anyway, because what else could one do after seeing their jets  _backhanded_ out of the air by enormous robots?

Footage was being broadcasted from the invaders themselves, which only helped to stir panic but was also working for her. Screens had been pushed in so that she could see it. Her agents had strongly advised to move to the basement, but she refused. She had cited Churchill's presence in London during the bombings as an example. She wanted to be able to say, when all was over, that she had not hidden away. She had stayed and fought, in a way.

Then, she had seen her jets, her fearsome fighting force, fire at the odd robotic lifeforms. Triumph had made her grin, only for astonishment to wipe it off her face when the giants withstood it as if it were rain. In fact, it didn't appear to even annoy them. The rounds bounced right off the steel, not leaving a scratch.

So it wasn't even like rain to them. The missiles didn't work, either, to her shock. They were missing them completly. None of them had moved during the first attack, but as soon as it was over…

All hell had broken loose. The robots with wings had changed into jets to tear apart her own, and she could have sworn that she saw one of them  _teleport_  to hit an F-22 within easy range.

Within seconds all but one were gone. The sole remaining pilot had flown his burning jet towards the one her experts had said was the leader and, just when it appeared as if it would collide, the grey giant had lunged as if in anger and had backhanded the craft like it was made of paper.

Doubt had tickled the back of her mind, whispering in her mental ear, " _What if the military is not enough?"_ She had slapped the thought away, not hearing the sounds of the generals swearing over the sound of her own mind.

"Hurry," he tried to hustle her, his earpiece alive with the alarming news that one of the "jets" from New York was on course for Washington. He needed to get her down into the basement, and fast. He was not going to lose her to some fiend, not when he had come this far with protecting her.

He was going to protect her, dammit. Just as he had sworn to.

"I'm trying, just let me grab -" A shock raced through the ground and threw her off her feet, Wilson barely managing to remain standing. Metal clicked and clanged, a sound that foreshadowed the roof suddenly vanishing from above her.

Thundercracker, though not blessed with the speed of Starscream, was far faster than the human jet he personified. He didn't have the slightest understanding of what Megatron would want the squishy leader for, but by the sound of his commander's voice when he had ordered him to fetch her…

It was nothing good. Already he had felt a stinging in the back of his processor for what his faction was doing to a defenceless race; he dreaded Megatron's imminent plans for enslavement.

When the human military scrambled jets to try to fight him on the capital's border, they had gone down easily with simple sonic booms. If human technology was this fragile, Thundercracker did not want to deal with having to kidnap a human itself, especially since Megatron had ordered, in  _explicit_ detail, that this one was not to be harmed. An even more unsettling indication from the Decepticon overlord.

The grey organic optics that watched him tear off the roof of her shelter were frozen on him, the rest of the female's body stiff where she lay in shock. He ignored the pings of primitive metal projectiles hitting his armor, identifying the female as the one Lord Megatron wanted.

Wilson dove, clutching onto her back as the blue behemoth of an alien picked both of them up, cupping them gently in an expansive palm. Thundercracker scowled, eyeing the way that the male had attached himself to the female firmly. He wasn't going to be able to pry them apart. Not without squishing them.

Before either of them could protest or the other Secret Service agents could act, the jet transformed around them and launched itself back into the skies with an ear-splitting  **boom**. To be sure that his leader's both implicit and explicit orders were carried out, the elite Seeker fired a series of shots at the building, finishing his demolition of it.

Eleanor closed her eyes, her breathing intensifying as Ben Wilson held her tighter in the dark space. Neither of them dared to utter a word, too far shocked that such a thing had happened so quickly. Inside of the jet the air pressure remained the same, but they could both sense the massive change in speed.

It would not be long before they got wherever this robot wanted to take them.

' _I have the human, Lord Megatron.'_ The tyrant's optics glowed brighter in a flash of anticipation. Energy surged through him from his core, his spark elated that his mate would be here soon. The warlord roared and fired a shot at another human dwelling in his triumph.

All was working perfectly. Devastator had destroyed the bridges and Astrotrain was working on the tunnels. Soon, this city would be a fortress; after that, the Earth would become his seat of power.

_In the end, the President will become my Queen._

* * *

Eleanor had made herself as calm as she could possibly have become, finally accepting that she had just been  _snatched_ out of one of the most  _secure_ homes in the world, when the alien changed forms again. Wilson's grip did not falter and she opened her eyes in bewilderment, squinting in the glare as she smelled the smoke and heard the sound of crashing in the distance. The sound of destruction.

She and Wilson were rolled somewhere, and when she was able to focus she realised that a  _different_ black hand was holding them. It was larger, she could see, as it cupped to hold them in the center.

In that moment, when she looked up and saw that massive, unmistakeable face, she knew what powerlessness truly felt like. It didn't have to say anything for blind terror to fill her mind. She knew what was holding her. She had seen it on the screens, seen how it had swatted her planes like flies and felled skyscrapers with single shots.

Suddenly, its size was not so dismissable. On the screen it had been large, sure, but the immediacy was gone. It might have well been a movie. She knew that her enemy was big, but at the same time she hadn't known.

In the flesh, she comprehended just how  _enormous_  it was compared to her. This platform of a hand could easily crush her with all the ease of squeezing a rotten grape. The thought made her seize and then start quivering.

It wasn't just the leader here, either. All around them were his followers, including the jet that had brought her here. Pairs upon pairs of red eyes watched her intently, curiously, as a cruel person might consider a trapped insect.

In that moment, she forgot all about bravery and lost the fight to fear.

Her heart pounded so fast she could scarcely hear over the blood rushing in her ears. Her throat was blocked, unable to utter a sound. This was the end of the road for her, here in this massive being's hand. Never again would she sit through another briefing, never again would she meet a diplomat she loathed, never again would she do anything she hated. The time for her to watch sunrises and sunsets was over, to smell the scent of the rain, to do the things she loved. Eleanor knew that she was going to  _die_ here, but she was far too petrified to cry for her loss.

Wilson held her tight, but she could feel his heart through her back, her nerves hyperaware as the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight on end. It rose her close to its face so that she could see her terror reflected in those bloody,  _huge_  eyes, proof that this was real and not in her head. She felt air being sucked from around her towards the beast, her hair flying in the wind.

She was being sniffed, like a lion would smell a caught mouse. Her only response was a terrified, loud squeak.

The beings around it laughed and chattered in their alien tones, but the one holding her stayed silent. Behind the red glass something spun, widening and widening like the aperture of a camera lens.

Megatron inspected her weightless form, ignoring the irksome male that had somehow attached itself to her. No matter. He could easily dispose of it soon enough. His mate, however, was quite the interesting specimen. She was still in his palm, little optics so wide with fear.

He dismissed the stinging realisation that she did not recognize him with the thought that he must have been something to admire. It made him flare his plating with pride, and with this confidence he gathered her scent, making her squeak in terror. "Delicious" and "sweet" were the adjectives his olfactory sensors gave him. Even in human form she was so very  _perfect_.

Some of his troops had taken a break from basking in their victory to watch his interaction with the human. He could not be gentle with her here, as much as he desired to start cooing and kissing her on the spot. A nest would do her well for the time being, allow time to calm herself.

Inspection done, Eleanor was lowered and shoved against the odd purple symbol on its chest, the force firm but not crushing in the least. In fact, if she had not been so terrified, she would have recognized the true nature of the action.

Possessive as it leveled warning gazes. Protective as the hand wasn't firm to keep her in, but to keep others out.

He dismissed his troops curtly, annoyed at their scornful commentary and distasteful mockery of his lovely mate. They left immediately upon seeing his anger, and he turned his processor to finding a human shelter that had yet to be demolished totally. It seemed to be safe, and a quick scan told him that there were human berths scattered about. She should find this one comfortable. Yes, this would do to shelter her for now.

First, though, this male had to let go of her. Thanking Primus that his mate's optics were closed and that the human was watching him, he narrowed his own optics threateningly. The male didn't react. He would have to go about this differently.

"Eleanor," he said, nudging her side carefully with a single finger. She jumped, wet optics flashing open in surprise.  _It speaks_ _ **English**_ _!_ Her mind was barely able to comprehend. Her neck, not used to the strain, was starting to hurt from looking straight up at its face from her position flush against its expansive, hard chest.

"It is alright," he reassured, his voice still very… unemotional. Millions of years of being the hardened Decepticon Emperor did not fall away so simply. "Do you know who I am?"

She blinked, innocence all over her little faceplates.  _Adorable_.

"My designation is Megatron." Eleanor couldn't even manage to nod her head, so stiff was she. Wilson merely watched and tried to keep his cool, especially as the beast snapped its gaze to him and decided to try to push them apart with a sizable black finger.

"Separate yourself from her." The warlord paused, temperature increasing with the nanoklik, " _Now_."

_Don't make it angry, please Wilson. Listen, for the love of God!_

He did, albeit reluctantly. With a bruising roughness Megatron separated Wilson from her, closing its fist around him as if making to crush him. "Please!" Eleanor found her voice, mirroring Megatron's look of shock that she had spoken.

"Don't hurt him!" There was a moment of silence so intense Eleanor could have sworn that it would go on forever before the titanic grey head nodded once and, setting him on the ground and far out of her sight, it straightened and cupped her tighter. The tyrant allowed himself a satisfied rumble, originating from deep within his chest.

The last time he was this excessively  _pleased_  was a long, long time ago.

It simply waltzed up to a building, lifting its enormous hand to jab two fingers through a window at its eye level with a shatter. Then, without so much as a pause, the steel colossus ripped away the exterior wall of the apartment like one might take the lid off of a sardine can. The debris fell to the ground and it roughly brushed away any jagged edges, sending glass clattering down as it set her inside, Eleanor practically jumping out of its hand in her fear as she promptly went to the wall as far as possible from her kidnapper.

Megatron noticed this with a pang - even after his words of reassurance, she was still afraid. The little thing was fighting not to show it but no amount of control could conceal the terror he saw in those tiny organic optics or the fearful stance she took as she pushed herself into a corner. His Queen, his Circuitsia, reduced to nothing more than a glitch mouse. The male, down by his pedes, was calling up at her while running back and forth in the amusing way that humans did.

To his fury she called right back, her voice so very  _scared_  and still eyeing him with distrust. "No harm will befall you," he attempted to promise and as he reached in with a servo to try to pet her she skittered out from under his fingers, diving under a table. He stopped himself from simply moving it aside, pondering for a moment while his servo hovered above it.

He had only indulged her request because it was very, very simple. Regardless, the human male was very likely to die - if he himself didn't step on it, it was probable that one of his mechs would. However, if she wanted it for company and it was comforting to have another human around…

Humans were social creatures. With some provisions, it would prove no threat to her. The last thing that he wanted was a filthy human male forcing his mate into breeding. Besides, she would benefit from some normalcy.

Megatron did not know much about humans yet, but he could see that he was still a shock to his mate.

Eleanor watched as the behemoth paused, huge black hand above her weak shelter, her chest heaving deep breaths. She was so scared that her mind refused to work and managed to conduct no other thoughts, focus on nothing but the grey monster watching her with those blood red eyes. Wilson shouted up at her again, words lost to the height of the building and she called back, flinching as its gaze hardened at her outburst.

Miraculously the hand retreated, though her fear did not lessen. It cocked its massive head at her and crooned again in its deep voice, "Would its presence soothe you?" She didn't know what "it" was but her brain told her head to nod dumbly.

It disappeared from view for a single moment, only for the hand to return and deposit Wilson within the apartment. Her bodyguard ran to her and stood in front of her protectively, bravely, even though nothing he could do could stop the strength of those massive black hands.

Megatron watched with anger the way the male blocked his view of her, aggression in its stance. It was as if it thought he would hurt her, and who was this insect to stand between himself and his future mate? To his knowledge his little one didn't have a human mate - thank Primus - and so what was it?

Thundercracker had brought them to him together, the male clinging and curled protectively around the President, though not in the way he had seen mechs try to protect their mates. A bodyguard, perhaps? Eleanor could keep it then, if it was a friend. He would eventually replace it, once she was convinced that he was nothing for her to fear.

Just as he had parted his lip components to speak again, a comm reached him from Soundwave.

"Stay here," he said softly, his servo so very badly wishing to stroke her as his optics found those wide, scared, wet ones. For such a soft creature she appeared to be very stiff, her limbs held close to her, as the tissue shook as a loose bolt would quiver. "I cannot guarantee your safety if you do not."

The silver giant lifted the massive cube in its palm and instantly the electronics in the apartment came to life, intimidating red eyes of what used to be a toaster, a radio, a television, among countless other things turned to peer at her. A whimper left her before she could stop it, eying the blades of a food processor-turned-robot. The soft sound of trepidation reached the tyrant's audios and chilled his spark.

" _You will not harm her or the male,"_ he growled as they came to tremble before him, the mech they recognized as their Master, " _not even the smallest of scratches. Keep her from escaping."_ The humans regarded him with bewilderment as he spoke his Cybertronian, but he didn't even bother to explain before he turned on his heel and left, priming his fusion cannon.

Soundwave had told him that the human military had halted in their attempts to enter the city, likely because he now held their leader within its confines. However, he would not drop his guard lest they manage to slip in and take his mate from him in his arrogance. Yes, his absence from Eleanor was necessary to ensure her protection.

She listened, waiting for its thundering footsteps to leave before she dared to relax even a modicum. The living things that it had just created shifted back into their original items, but they still creeped her out. Wilson was nervous as well, his hackles still risen.

"What  _was_  that?" Eleanor asked, cautiously crawling out from under the table. She clenched her hands into fists to stop their shaking. " _Who_  was he?" Her eyes darted back and forth, watching for any sudden movement from the smaller robots.

There was no way that whatever it was wasn't male. That deep voice that she had felt in her chest, that strong body, and that emanated masculine power was enough to prove it. Eleanor knew that whoever had spared her was male.

What was the name that she had heard him say?  _Megatron_.

"I don't know," Wilson answered quietly, measuredly, as he tried to hide his anxiety. Never in his life had it been this hard, but he knew that the instant he let his President see his fear she would shut down. He needed to get her out of here, and to do that she had to be able. She could not close up. He wasn't about to try to leave now, with all of those miniature robots lurking in the apartment, and risk her being hurt. Sherman needed to stay alert so that they could flee at the drop of a hat.

"It's going to be alright, okay?" He reassured, gently taking hold of her still-quivering arm in a firm grasp. She looked at the obliterated, missing wall of the apartment and he saw her composure falter.

"D-did you see how he did that?" Her eyes were almost as big as her gaping mouth as she turned between him and the empty space, "It was just - just -  _gone_!" He'd ripped it off like it was wrapping paper, and the thought of what such great strength of such a giant could do to her...

"An-and h-how," She closed her eyes and took a breath, but it did not help much, "how did he h-hold me so  _carefully_?" The President shivered at the thought of how gentle he had been when he had her in his palm, cupped like an infant. Such large, strong, hands, that made her feel so very small and weak...

"Shhhh," Wilson calmed her, shooing the alarm away from his heart, "We  _will_  defeat them at some point and we  _will_  get out of here, do you understand?"

President Sherman started to nod in earnest, her eyes full of hope and fear that evaporated when the robots around them erupted into scornful, mechanical laughter. The seed of doom that had been planted in her mind as soon as that silver colossus had touched her grew and deepened its roots. Despair invaded her subconscious, an inkling of doubt trickling into her mind.  _But what if we can't defeat them? What if we can't escape? It is unlikely that these creatures will let us walk out. What will we do then?_

 _What will_ _ **he**_   _do then?_

* * *

The Emperor of Destruction hummed quietly, the thrill of the knowledge that his mate had been recovered increasing his prowess and agility. With the Autobots out of the way, the AllSpark in his possession, the Earth soon to fall, and his sweet sparkmate back the Decepticon was in an excellent mood. It had been a long time since he had felt this  _good_ . It would have been perfect, he realised as he smashed an armored vehicle with his fist, if said mate wasn't so blindly  _terrified_ .

He wasn't sure that he had ever seen  _anything_  that scared of him before. The way her little grey optics had widened, her tissue had hardened, and her frame had cowered made his spark… sad. She was his mate, and the poor thing was as terrified as he had ever seen another living being. Even captured Autobots had shown some courage; even  _Starscream_  could be brave (why else would the Seeker try and fail so many times to overthrow him?).

But his mate crawled into a hole and curled in on herself, her frame shaking like human dwellings under the assault of his cannon. Why would that be? What made her different?

She was small, but so were some of the Autobots his forces had caught. She had no weapons, but the imprisoned Autobots often didn't either. She had taken one look at him and closed her optics in fear. What did that  _mean_?

He thought of how soft her little body had felt, even when hardened in trepidation, how weak those subframe supports under her flesh would be. How easily he could smash one of them into a million, irreparable pieces. How he could close his fist once and that would be all for her.

His mate knew that she was weak. She perceived herself to be defenseless, helpless, prone to harm. She knew that she could not fight him, and even if she got out of his grasp running would do no good. One step on his part and he could snatch her up again, and perhaps decide to crush her. She felt  _trapped_.

 _Poor little sweetling,_ he said to himself as a plane was hit by one of his own blasts,  _I will never hurt you._ She would never be hurt again if he could help it. The thought sickened him as he smashed aside another jet with heightened fury.

 _But how do I right your sentiments?_ Another vehicle met the underside of his ped, just as he found what he was looking for on the fleshlings' internet.

 _A gift,_ he mused,  _but which type? There are many possibilities._ He could get her a treat, something edible and sweet as this "chocolate" was described. Females liked to adorn themselves with rare minerals, so perhaps something for her to display on her frame. She probably needed a distraction, so maybe something for her to entertain herself with…

 _What do you like?_  It was obvious that Circuitsia did not remember him. He would have to start from scrap with this tiny little replacement. She would be happy - he was determined to make himself appear safe to her, and eventually attractive.

She had been a leader of the human world - there must be plenty of information on the internet about her, or at least something to get him started.

He saw a few things about her favorite treats and literature, but other than that nothing personal. It was all Earth politics. Nothing revealing about his sweetspark, except an interesting figure in the background in most of her photographs…

That male, optics shrouded with dark glass, watching carefully and guiding his mate's steps. A guard was all it was, and nothing for him to worry about it seemed. As much as he desired to have all but himself barred from her, he could not kill a close protector. That would only send the wrong message to his already frightened mate - that he was something to cower from.

He wanted to have a bond with her and eventually sparklings, and none of that would work unless she was trustful of him. She would only be miserable, sad. He couldn't want such a little thing to be afraid of her mate, constantly scared and fearing for her life.

What he wanted, he decided, was to coddle her. Such a tiny femme could easily fit into his spark chamber and the thought of cuddling her close, inside himself where no one could hurt her, where he was always touching her, made him warm. There would be no escape, no way out, but his own spark would provide her warmth and comfort.

But that was risky in her human state. He didn't know how or if a human would react to spark energy. It could permanently damage her and the tyrant was adamant about keeping her in perfect condition, both mentally and physically.

Mental health. Megatron cumulated the one-sided battle with a single smash of his fist into the last remaining vehicle, crushing it mercilessly with one blow. He didn't know the slightest thing of what humans needed to survive, let alone if he could even mistakenly break her mind. He would need to do some research, and fast. Megatron didn't want his sparkmate to lack something necessary for too long, lest it result in death. He knew all too well how permanent death was for humans.

Blitzwing interrupted his thoughts with unimportant and needless worry, prompting a simple response from himself. The conquering of Earth was practically ensured. The humans could do nothing to stop him. Now, the Decepticon Emperor was concerning himself with another conquest.

His tiny human of a mate. A being that needed nourishment, shelter, and protection. He was only too happy to oblige her needs and wants, to spoil her with plenty of gifts.

But how would she be given a frame of her own? A human had a lifespan far too short for his taste, and her… uterus? could not support a sparkling. She couldn't sparkbond with him, or even try to take his spike.

Even if she  _could_  do all of those things, her flesh was far too weak to take a pounding from him. She would end up a half-smashed pile of organic tissues and supports.

Unfortunately, he could not even mention plans for her conversion to Soundwave and Shockwave until the Decepticons had established themselves and his new fortress was under construction by the human slaves. That would only happen as soon as he had the Earth firmly under his ped. Standing up strong and powerful he walked away with a new puff in his chassis, leaving Blitzwing behind, the jet looking on in awe at his leader's destruction.

The Emperor had better things to do than conquer a planet that was already his. But if this was the way things had to go, he might as well go through the motions to get to the fun part. His Queen was waiting for him, no doubt very lonely even with the male's presence and the drones. As soon as he was done, he could go set things right with her and work on lessening her fear.

* * *

It was starting to get dark.

Eleanor had stayed in the same spot, sitting on the couch, her posture tight and her body occupying less space as a result. After Wilson had calmed her down enough, all she had done was stare out at the city with empty eyes. He had surmised that it was a coping mechanism, and thus he did not bother her with it.

She didn't even move when a terrible shrieking, the screams that of hundreds of people, had come from the park earlier. Wilson's gut had clenched - that sound couldn't have carried worse news.

However, it would be cold very soon. It would be bearable but he had to find somewhere to keep the both of them warm. The wall that the… whatever he was had torn out was problematic, but the park avenue apartment was spacious with other rooms.

"Madame," he tried gently, receiving no response from her.

Wilson bit his lip. He had been her bodyguard for some time, and so he thought that she would understand.

The man crouched in front of her and when no eye contact was made he grabbed her shoulders to give her a firm, hard shake. "Madame President, I need you to listen to me."

Eleanor blinked three times in quick succession, refocusing for the first time in hours. There were few times that Wilson had said that phrase and her brain picked up on its seriousness. "Are you with me now?"

What had she been doing that he needed to shake her like that? Had she been lost in her thoughts for so long that it was dark now? What in the  _hell_  had happened?

She could have  _ **died**_  earlier, and so could he. Death could  _still_  take them. Her military must have attempted to rescue her, but to no avail. She was stuck here, the captive of an alien whose intentions for her country were becoming clearer by the instant. Eleanor didn't know, though, what he wanted with her.

And then that circle of thought would start back around.

"I know that you are reluctant to move, but we must. I have a hunch that they do patrols out there," he pointed firmly, shaking his arm a few times, at the rapidly darkening city, "and we don't want to be here when they come by."

She nodded and stood, stopping all thought for a moment to refocus herself. This was a multi-million apartment - at least she wasn't in a rundown pit.  _Who knows how long you will be here,_ a dark voice uttered.

 _Snap out of it!_ Duty screamed back.  _Stay alert!_

The three doors that led out of the sitting room went to a kitchen, a private hall, and to a bedroom respectively. Wilson offered her a hand which she disregarded. She needed to pull out of this funk.

Hesitantly she tried the lights within the spacious bedroom. Off and on went the switch, but nothing.

Figures.

She went straight to the bed, lying down atop the silk covers. Guilt and a sense of rudeness nipped at her, but she ignored them.  _It is unlikely that the people living here will come back_ , she admitted while trying to remain logical and unemotional. If she didn't stop this, she was going to collapse under the weight of her own stress.

"I will stand guard. If I see anything coming this way, I will tell you." Now this she could do something about.

The President drew a firm line, sitting up and ordering firmly, "Tell me when my shift starts. You cannot stay up all night and be ready for tomorrow." Wilson only gave her a skeptical look at best.

"Am I clear?" Now that was the President that he served.

"Tremendously."

When he turned around and she resumed her rest, he shared a half-grin of relief with himself. He had been afraid for a moment that she was gone, only for her to come screaming back and make him feel foolish for doubting her.

That robot would have a hard time breaking a woman with a core of steel. However, if he could help it, Megatron wouldn't have the chance.

* * *

According to Megatron's research, humans recharged -  _slept_  - at during Earth's dark cycles, with onlining occurring whenever their circadian rhythms dictated. Water fell from the atmosphere to slide down his frame as he stalked towards her shelter, wondering if she would even be up yet. If not, the sound of him approaching probably would. Humans'  _ears_ were sensitive to loud sounds.

She was. Eleanor hadn't slept a wink the night before, for every time her eyes would drift shut and sleep was an inch away from taking her, memory of what had happened would startle her awake. Though she saw clearly that there were no red eyes peering at her in the darkness, though she knew that she would likely feel his approach if he was here, adrenaline kept her up through the night. She didn't even know when the rain had started, she had been so distant.

She was so mentally exhausted that she had forgotten all about taking over Wilson's watch.

Not that the agent had thought he would have gotten any sleep either, even if he had let the President do  _his_  job.

The President had been testing the water in the apartment, glad to see that it still worked if only for the time being. It was cold, but always better than no water. Not as easily dismissed, however, was the question:  _How long will you be kept here?_ The answers and their possible consequences were not something that she could do anything about - therefore, she did not consider them.

Maybe that would be her plan from now o-

A distant thud sent shocks up through the sensitive soles of her feet. Her eyes went wide in fear for a moment before she sprinted out of the marbled bathroom and slid under the bed, where she curled into a shameful fetal position and closed her eyes shut, willing herself to stop shaking. Fear made sense now, and she was far past shaming it.

Eleanor was caught between wishing that it was Megatron and hoping that it was not. Megatron had not harmed either of them yesterday, but that held no guarantees for today. And if it was another robot she was definitely dead.

_Wait… where is Wilson?!_

Megatron came to the front of the nest of his little human, taking in the empty room quickly before calling for her.

"Eleanor," he said gently, aware that she was probably frightened and hiding. "Come out,  _sweetling_." He unttered the last word in Cybertronian, liking the feel of it emerging from his vocaliser.

No movement. A simple heat scan showed him that she was huddled beneath a human berth in a different room, curled into a tight little ball. The guard, however, was behind one of the furnishings.

It was not standoffish nor foolish. Interesting.

Should he have the drones drag her back out? That would teach her to come when called, but would that make her fear him more? He had no choice and the warlord knew that he would atone for it later. Hence, he brushed it off and ordered in sharp Cybertronian, " _Bring her to me. Inflict not one scratch."_

Eleanor heard the odd clicks and beeps from Megatron, still not moving a muscle, when the scuttling sounds started. The thick carpeting could only dull the sound of so many tiny feet so much, and she clenched up.

Then they started pricking at her back, so many tiny sharp points spurring her out from under the bed in an awkward crawl. She balked at the sight of the doorway that led to the living room, but the pricks through her pant legs and on her bare feet were starting to carry electrical shocks which only seemed to worsen.

With pain that bruised more her pride than her body, she stumbled out into the sight of her captor.

He chuckled at her, and the demons behind her echoed it with gusto until Megatron snapped something stern-sounding at them, again with deep clicks and beeps, making them clam up immediately.

"'Good morning' is the proper greeting, Eleanor." The drones resumed their prior positions, but not before prodding Wilson to come out from his place too. Still far too flabbergasted to say anything, but her cheeks reddening from embarrassment, she shut her mouth.

"Not for a kidnapper." Evidently, her lips had other plans.

A static laugh and amused grin was not what she had been expecting at all in response to her cheeky remark. Yesterday, he had seemed to be the type to reprimand in a more physical manner.

Noticing that she appeared unsettled, Megatron dipped his helm. The "rain" had been irksome but he was not noticing it now. Rather than the pools in the ruined streets catching his attention, he was lost in the grey depths of her mesmerizing optics.  _Beautiful_ , his spark breathed. Though a part of him detested that he was becoming obsessive, he paid it no mind.

"Did you sleep well?" Eleanor's skin crawled and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. What  _was_  this?  _Something_  was there, something that did not show itself in his face or his words, but was there.

"Stop mocking me." He had not been expecting that, based on the tiny recoil of his massive head. Water droplets from the rain outside splashed into the apartment, deflected there by the grey metal.

"What reason do I have to mock you?" He parried back. "Now, is this dwelling comfortable?"

This time she said nothing. Her jaw was shut and her eyes hard with something like determination.

Annoyance bore through his spark like a drill in an automated mine. She was testing his finite patience reserves. A pity; he had been looking forward to seeing his mate. After millions of years of waiting for her, he wanted to waste not a nanoklik with waiting even longer. He took time away from overseeing his forces - which could run rampant with their petulant mannerisms - to visit her, only for her to snap at and ignore him?

"So be it." She needed to be punished. If she did not want to talk to him, perhaps forcing her to take her company and socializing from him would produce results.

Megatron's black servo reached in in a flash, brushing past her surprised form and snatching up Wilson's in a closed fist. It was harder than the tyrant expected to pick up the male without crushing it, but he secured his digits around the flesh creature and removed it from the nest of his mate.

She ran after her guard, but ducked back when Megatron started to remove another wall, this time from the apartment above hers. Debris fell down, some of it getting into her own space, before Wilson disappeared from sight.

Oh no.

Without another word he left, leaving her all alone within the apartment, wondering what she had done.

 _The next time I come back she will have hopefully learned her lesson_ , Megatron pondered as he strode towards the established rendezvous point with his mechs. If she hadn't, well… Perhaps he would start removing possible sources of entertainment.

He hoped that she would not need physical punishment. This was her first offence, she was no doubt still learning. Eleanor would not likely need that for a while. Escape was impossible with so many optics watching her, but any attempts would have to result in a punishment. He could not allow her to run wild and disobey her Dominant mate and her Emperor.

In time she would learn. Once she understood that he was no threat to her well-being and that she would not be abused, Eleanor would come to enjoy his presence on her Earth. She would be forced to, for this planet was his now, and delusion was  _not_  an act that he would tolerate from his mechs, even less his mate.

And she  _would_  be his mate, the Carrier of his sparklings. There  _would_ be a way to erase her organic nature, replace her flesh with metal.

The sight of his troops gathered in the flattened area of the city spurred pride in the stead of his frustration with his mate. Soon this would be a sight she would enjoy as much as he did.

" _Decepticons,_ he announced in the silence that had arrived with him, " _this world is ours!"_

* * *

"More inner-city explosions," an officer reported from outside the tent.

"Nothing we can do about that right now." There seemed to be fewer and fewer things that the commander knew that he could control. Last he had heard the White House had been attacked, and the President was still missing. He assumed her dead in the ruble, like the countless others that had been inside when one of those things attacked.

How a  _single_  one of those gigantic life forms had just waltzed into the capital of one of the most powerful nations in the world was more than unsettling and a large source of his growing helplessness, to make no mention of the fact that the leader appeared to be producing more robots out of electronics.

"Troop movements," he inquired of the colonel now at his right. He may have been rapidly losing control, but he was not going to just surrender. Not after the death of his Commander and Chief.

"Troops and most of the vehicles have been pulled back into the residential areas as ordered. To all intents and purposes, this place looks deserted."

"Good," the Commander replied grimly, "Less of a target for one of their impromptu raids." He had learned that lesson yesterday with those monsters, but hundreds of troops in Central Park had payed for his mistake with their lives.

"Sir, we are getting reports… Los Angeles and San Diego are currently under attack." He almost didn't hear the report.

"We're going to need all the manpower we can get if we're going to have any chance of hitting back."  _Any chance_  were the words that played over and over in his mind, and almost as if to shout over his own inner mantra he ordered, "Patch me through to the North Front!"

The Commander returned to speaking with the Colonel, going over their grim facts. "The death toll estimates are sitting around 200,000 and climbing,"  _and I'm not surprised._ "First they take out the bridges, then they flood the tunnels, the North is cut off…

"They've turned the place into a damn  _ **sanctuary**_." All the while the enemy had broadcasted live feed of destruction, most of it being from New York but now they were starting to get feed of other cities and countries too.

Lord Above, what was happening here?

"We're facing a sadistic, military genius the likes of which we've never seen before." In the background another city was called in the din, "In a matter of days the enemy has successfully secured the perfect stronghold from which to launch any number of attacks."

Another city's name was called, as if Death himself was taking roll call.

"Ground troops, air strikes, and heavy artillery are all out." The Colonel was speechless. "They can control or interfere with any guided missile, which leaves the 'dumb alternative'. And we're not about to start carpet bombing our own people."

The Colonel summarised, "One giant hostage situation. Any word from the fleet?" He sounded hopeful, like a man searching for the last bit of light.

The Commander rubbed the back of his neck, "A brief message came in over the radio, and if I ever hear that message again as long as I live, it'll be too soon."

"About as bad as it gets." Obliged as a human being to help support the younger man, the Commander tried to do just that.

"They haven't won yet, son. We still have a country to defend."  _Even if our president, our capital, and our military are gone. Fight for what remains._

"Sir, you may want to see this." A nervous aid handed him a paper, and used to bad news the Commander looked at it nonchalantly, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

The shock of seeing the President alive was quickly overridden by the content of the photograph.

The first thing he noticed were the grey eyes in the color photograph, eyes that he remembered as being windows to a kind but tough soul. Only once had he the pleasure of being in her company, but he knew he had met oh so few women who could stand their ground like she could.

The next aspect was the red eyes inspecting the grey ones, alight with something he didn't like in the least bit. Horror, anger, and powerlessness clashed in him, and he closed his eyes and lowered his head, shoving the paper at the Colonel. The photograph showed him how desperately he needed to get into the city, to get past their lines, to save the Commander in Chief while she still breathed, but also hammered into him a grim realisation.

They couldn't.

* * *

The radios in the apartment didn't work, not even static on any of the chanels. It could be that the robot was refusing to work with her, but she felt that it wasn't that.

The city was quiet, absolutely silent save for the whistle of wind between half-demolished buildings. She wondered what was happening beyond, where everyone was. There weren't any people that she could see, but those that had survived were probably gone by now.

Dead or, if they were especially lucky, escaped. Little did she know of the sorting that was going on in the Bronx, of what was happening in the city beyond Manhattan.

The captured President hadn't a clue about the bomb that had almost been dropped on New York, sent by the UN to end a problem that was already too progressed to kill. She knew nothing about Megatron's order for his own soldier, Tankor, to abort the dropping of the nuclear bomb. No signs that the last hope of humanity, the coalition fleet, had been destroyed with ease, that the military camp that had been hoping to enter the city and save her was now a smoldering pit.

Eleanor saw no signs of Megatron's global victory.

There were no signs of anything at all. Even the pigeons were gone. It was as if the world had just… forgotten about her. Was a deal reached? Had Megatron been appeased?

She was technically able to talk to Wilson if they both walked to the edges of the apartments and she spoke up to him, but the last time she had seen him he had said that he was working on a way to get down to her apartment. That discussion was followed by crashing and hacking at the walls above her.

She had yelled at him to take a break after half an hour and he must have heard her, for the sounds had stopped.

Total silence for her to mull over the fact that she was a prisoner of war, that the White House had been destroyed and she was likely considered missing in action, if not dead.

 _Another first_ , her mind pointed out,  _the first President to be a prisoner of war during their own term._

_The first to go missing in action._

Eleanor was very much known to be alive, but she saw no signs of the bird robot watching her from across Central Park, broadcasting her image not to the world, but to the personal datapad of a purring warlord.

* * *

A week later Megatron sat back in his chair at the head of the table, rather bored with the repetitive meeting. He already knew that the leaders, save for sweet little Eleanor, were dead. For once Starscream had followed orders and done as he was told, hunting down and executing the leaders of the human countries like the vermin they were. He knew that the ranks of the human slaves were growing in size as more and more cities and towns fell under Decepticon shadow, and with these numbers his own troops were increasing as the human technology was given Cybertronian life via the Allspark.

Everything was perfect, but he could not see his mate as he longed to until this meeting was concluded, as unnecessary as his presence was. He was not truly needed in a discussion for the best methods to produce the best Energon while terminating the least number of slaves. Humans had short lifespans, a particularly alarming fact, but they were not so short and so quickly bred that they could be easily squandered. Megatron was not keen on wasting resources, as replaceable as they were. Therefore, the only reason he was here was to approve or deny proposed strategies.

His processor slowly wandered in and out of the conversations and the heated, prideful arguments of his subordinates, garnering ideas for the welfare of his mate. So far he had gathered that she needed to be kept at a certain temperature and sleep for so long a night in order to live, as well as have access to clean water. Taking care of humans physically was far more simple than he had anticipated.

Until he had heard of the dietary requirements. As his officers bickered over what was too little and what was too much, likely trying to impress him, Megatron was lost in his own worried thoughts.

 _Primus,_ he groaned,  _I haven't fed her._

Anxiously he waited for the meeting to end, not considering what he was signing in the least as he pondered what was happening in her nest. As soon as he left he found a human village and tore the roof off of a human fuel store, grabbing what he detected that was not rotting and leaving for New York.

He ignored comms left and right, worry for his mate first and foremost in his processor. Would she even be online when he arrived?

His spark stopped when he saw the empty nest, his little one nowhere to be seen. Had she thrown herself out of the building in an attempt to get fuel? Was she that desperate? He didn't see any splatters on the ground - had she somehow survived the fall and was now limping around, trying to sort through the ruins to find herself some food?

Megatron, in his anger, turned from his mate's shelter and neglected to scan for her - if he had, he would have picked up upon the wide-eyed woman huddled under the berth. He only managed a few steps, walking back the way he had come, when he snarled his frustration and smashed his fist into the building beside him. For a few moments he left it lodged there in the primitive material, huffing vents in his fury, and then pulled it out to flex his servo and rid it of the irritating shards of glass and steel. He had left her alone, his "precious mate," without any fuel to starve herself into permanent stasis. Caged, hungry, and helpless.

Depending on how long she had been gone, she might be offline already. There was no Allspark nor Matrix of Leadership for the humans - she was  _gone_  because he had  _failed_ to care for her.  _She_ _ **relied**_ _on me to care for her._

At least Circuitsia had not offlined alone; she had died in his arms. Eleanor, however, had probably died all by herself, hungry, cold, and hurting from her fall. His rage and sorrow built up and he reared back his helm to roar, shaking the pebbles in the rubble at his pedes, and swung another fist into the building.

Eleanor stood and padded from her spot to the wall, where she watched from her hidey-hole as he punched the building, dust and debris flying, and bellowed in such a sorrowful way. Her hands tightened around the rough edge of the wall at the corner of her "apartment," her eyes filling with confusion and concern even as her ears rang from his roar. This was… bizarre. Was he actually sad that she had appeared to be gone? Or was he angry?

It appeared to be both.

Once he was done with the ear-splitting cry and all was silent, she softly called out to him, "I'm here."

She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide.  _What in the hell did I just do?_

Her fleeting hope that he had not heard her meek call disappeared as his enormous leg froze in midair, halfway through a lengthy step, and he turned slowly to look at her. He moved faster than she would have thought a being of his hulking mass could, smashing asphalt to dust beneath his pounding feet. They skidded to a halt outside of her apartment, red eyes studying her as a black hand herded her into its complement.

Once he was done with his inspection, which consisted of a careful coal digit running down the length of her torso and legs, the eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why did you not come to greet me?"

Though he was relieved that his scans revealed that she wasn't hurt and somehow wasn't starving, there were limits to how far he could be pushed. A lack of punctuality on her part was what he blamed for his anger but in his spark he knew that being made to needlessly worry was the true cause.

Eleanor apologized, fearing for her life as the raven hands suddenly became fatally threatening. He could crush her in an instant if he desied, and the look on that cold face struck that fact into her core. Her heart felt as if it wanted to break out of her chest and a lump sat heavily in her throat.

"I'msorry," her voice wavered against her will, "PleaseI'msorry."  _I don't want to die!_

"You will come to me in the future," he growled, not pleased with the way her voice squeaked in terror. Her peeps were cute, but her fear irked him. To reassure her he petted a pale arm gently, stroking with the point of a digit. She did not ease her tense organic tissues at all, narrowed eyes still very distrustful.  _I will not ever hurt you, little one. It's going to be alright, can't you see?_

"What have you been ingesting?" His scans told him that her systems were in the process of digesting something - he hoped that she hadn't been forced to refuel on something dangerous or toxic. It didn't appear as if she had munched on any of her nest's furnishings, but he wouldn't put it past a desperate creature.

She took a moment to discern his meaning through her lingering fear, "Food from the pantry." Eleanor didn't move, stock still in his palm. As much as he seemed to have relaxed, she couldn't trust that as a reason to no longer be afraid. There was much to fear from him, including his unclear motives for keeping her.

Pleased that she was alright and healthy but also seeing that she was nervous he gently set her back inside. Her bodyguard regarded him warily in his apartment above hers, despite his demonstration that he had the ability to care for her. Quickly unsubspacing the food he had gathered in his haste, he snatched up the guard without warning and left his newly alarmed mate with her human fuel. He had thought that her fear would gradually dissipate, but she was just as stubborn and terrified as before.

It was time that he learned about her, and there was only so much he could know from the human Internet. He wanted all of her little secrets, like a greedy Senator for credits, and this male could give them to him.

Being gentle with Eleanor came naturally, almost as if his servo itself was aware of who it was holding and her importance. The male, however, was not so lucky. Instead of being cradled like his beloved President, he was confined in a firm fist almost too tight to breathe in.

City blocks passed in just a few strides of the enormous beast carrying him, footfalls loud and swaying, cracking the asphalt on the street far below. Every so often he would kick a car and send it skittering across the street, or crush one beneath him with his titanic weight.

The alien said nothing for the duration of the walk, surprising Wilson when he abruptly stopped beside a building whose roof reached his waist and unceremoniously rolled him onto the platform. The landing was hard and the agent impacted with his shoulder, inspiring a pained groan from his throat. That would leave an ugly bruise, assuming he lived to see tomorrow.

Determination sprung from his heart, his teeth grinding down against each other. He had to survive this. The thought of her living alone, with no company but this android, made fire flare behind his eyes.

No. He was not going to allow that.

The robust grey arms folded themselves behind the back of the giant, taking a stance that was all-too human like for something so clearly extraterrestrial. Red eyes bore down on him, regarding him as one might view a puzzle.

The wind ruffled his hair and their gazes locked. Wilson slowly stood from the roof, dusting his suit off without breaking the stare. Something told him that this was not a challenge he wanted to lose.

Megatron almost laughed at the intensity in the human's optics. If only his mate would have a little of that fire, that courage, to hold his gaze and look so  _angry_. No, determined. This human wanted something, but he wasn't going to get it. Especially not if he wanted what the warlord thought that he desired. "Human, you will tell me about Eleanor Sherman."

Not in a million years did he expect those words to come from that being's mouth. "What?" was all the stunned guard could manage. For what sick reason could he want to know about President Sherman? For that matter, what did he  _want_  to learn about her? It wasn't even phrased like a question, either. The bastard was so sure of himself that he didn't even need to ask, but rather imposed an order. Wilson's heart leapt in a quick spat of terror when he remembered the truth of who had the upper hand at the moment.

"Tell me what you know of her." He pushed again, not phased in the slightest bit. The Secret Service head was barely aware that he was slack-jawed at the unwavering command.

Megatron leant forward, narrowing his optics in suspicion of the human male below him. " _Speak_ ," he growled lowly in threatening English, "if you do not wish to see her harmed."

He had to crane his neck now to see the shadowed face of their captor, the glare of the sun wreaking havoc on his eyes. "What do you want with this information?"  _Accidents do happen, human, and it is imperative that they do not._

The next sentence was one he would remember clearly for the remainder of his life. Wilson would recall how the wind had stopped and the sun had seemingly increased its intensity, the shadow around him darkening. His heart had hammered and blood had pounded, stomach dropping clear to the basement of the building below his feet.

"She would make an excellent mate."

He didn't know where to start with this. The agent was drawing on training he had undergone over and over again but only now was forgetting, blowing to recall the information that had been hammered into every fibre of his being but had failed to think of in his shock.

This alien wanted to court a female of the race he had invaded, a race much smaller than himself. Wilson hadn't a clue about how they reproduced, but he didn't want Eleanor to know.  _What if it is… sexual?_

_Back to the plan._

First step was to negotiate, to point out the flaws in the plan. He only hoped that this method would hold true for non-human threats as well. "You like her?"

The massive head tipped downwards once in an impatient nod, "Have I not proven my fitness to her? I have sheltered her, fed her, and shown gentleness to her."

Wilson couldn't deny how careful he was with Eleanor, but he could not back down. The thought of surrender did not even cross his mind. "She is human."

"A factor I am well aware of." If his mate had been protected by dullards such as these, it was no wonder Thundercracker had been able to simply scoop her out of her palace. "Do get to your point, human."

Wilson shifted to the other foot, unsure of how to proceed. The last thing he wanted was to get crushed out of exasperation by the colossus before him. "So you want to start a human harem?" There was something dirty about this, a mysterious dark intent that shrouded Eleanor like a thundercloud.

Confusion furrowed the expansive mouth in a way no metal should have been able to contort, remaining there for a few seconds before switching rapidly to offence and disgust. "No. Only Eleanor." Oh no.

"We, like humans, mate for life with a single partner." A harem might have been preferable during the war but now, seated upon a permanent throne on a permanent planet rather than a temporary one on a vagabond warship, he was yearning for his sparkmate to become his permanent Queen.

The knowledge that she was alive, his lost sparkmate, ready to be wooed once again, made his processor refine base coding in his programming. Megatron was aware that all of his intense attention and desire for interface was now pinned on one femme alone.

Wilson hadn't once broken his gaze from the beginning, and the intensity in the larger's burning inhuman eyes conveyed the extreme attention, as if he was looking not at him but was zoned out.  _He's thinking of her,_  he realised in fear. Powerlessness crept up on him, and his mind's eye showed him terrible pictures of her being pinned, being taken against her will.

His heart beat so fast it felt like had stopped moving all together, becoming a blur inside his chest. Assuming that he was telling the truth, that ruled out the possibility of Eleanor being taken as a  _literal_  trophy wife. "But she isn't a robot."

"I find her extremely attractive, even for Cybertronian standards."

His stomach rebelled.  _Not good not good not good._ "She needs specific things to stay alive."  _And to escape from you._

"Yes, and I have provided her with warmth, shelter, water, and food."  _That explains why the water is still working and why you have brought food._

"But that isn't enough. She needs… other things too." Megatron cocked his helm at this, relieved that the male was finally going somewhere but almost anxious about what he was going to reveal.

"Such as?" Wilson balked, listing as many as he could. Everytime he thought that he was done, yet another article would come to mind. Maybe, if he really cared about her - which he must have, he acknowledged regretfully, for her to be handled so carefully - he would let her go and allow her to take care of herself. Wilson doubted that the military was defeated. Perhaps she could be turned back over.

Then he would have done his job.

"Those needs can easily be fulfilled." Frustration bit into Wilson's gut. "Is there anything else?" He sounded so calm, so very nonchalant, and it was making him sick.

"The mental ones are also important."

Megatron's entire position had not changed at all over the course of the meeting, remaining just as intense as at the start, and it was getting on his last nerve. This entire, perverse conversation was getting on his last nerve. "Go on."

Wilson needed to establish that Eleanor could not be played with like a living doll. That was his first and greatest worry. "We. as decent human beings," anger caught up with him, aimed mostly at his powerlessness taking over his heart, "have rules against rape. First and foremost."

Offence shone for the second time, massive eyes bigger than his hands narrowing. He roared, "You believe that I would  _ **rape**_  my  _mate_?" The arms unclasped and flew down on the roof on either side of him, cracking the flat cement. He was knocked off his feet and onto his rear.

Eleanor, further down, looked up from her bag of potato chips, having heard the roar but not the words.  _Please be alright Wilson._ Nervous appetite lost, she rolled it up and set it on the carpet beside her. She had been losing weight far too fast to be healthy, and though she knew that she needed to eat she didn't want to.

Not since that animalistic bellow.

The voice lowered to a dangerous growl, enormous face right above him. This anger couldn't be faked. This was a real reaction of a prideful man who had just been insulted in the worst possible way. "When I merge with her," the exhaust was hot against his face but he still held the gaze. At this point, he was more afraid to look away than to maintain it.

"... it will be because she is  _willing_  to mate." Megatron stayed where he was, huffing over the human, instilling fear into the slave. He bared denta to be sure, mimicking what he knew would make the human cower.

"Is that clear?"

Wilson nodded once, scared in a different way now. He was so sure that he would get what he wanted, that this would end with Eleanor… however it was that they mated. This being, whatever it was and wherever it was from, was clearly insane.  _Or is he?_

 _What if he actually_ _ **lusts**_   _after her as a mate? What if this is not a taboo amongst his kind to take what is available?_

"Good." Megatron pulled pack up, removing his servos and replacing them behind him. The unnerved human sat up and got to his pedes again, shaken but still with that brave expression. An admirable trait.

"Are there other mental needs, human? I will not neglect her."

This would be the death of him, but so be it. It was his duty, his job. Megatron, for whatever unclear reasons he had, was not interested in hurting her. By telling him of these things that could hurt her, he was protecting Eleanor.

How long this protection could last was another question. How long the overlord would wait before Eleanor was his mate was not something he could consider. After all, the military was still coming.

Right?

* * *

Megatron gave them a few days apart, during which Wilson would visit quickly in the night to check on her. If he visited during the day the robots would attack him, but they seemed to sleep at night just as humans did.

Wilson had only just left and retreated back to his apartment when the footfalls grew louder and the building began to shake.

Megatron knew that he needed to prove himself as her friend, that he would take care of her, provide for her, and protect her from harm. The human had told him as much and the human internet appeared to support this, but the sight that met him was not what he had prepared for. The night might not have been the best time, for she was supposed to sleep, but it was the only time he had after yet another long day of organising the human slaves and his own forces. He was expecting peaceful, cute sleep, not this.

His mate was stressed out of her mind with fear, tiny little body curled up in her nest as she whimpered and begged in her recharge. He hadn't known humans could do that.

"Please, Megatron!" Came from those lips, but it was not in desire as he wished. It was in deep, intense fear and helplessness that squeezed his spark.

Had he frightened her so terribly that it carried over into her sleep? Did humans play back memories as they slept, and that was what she was doing now? Remembering him as a veritable monster?

 _Or is it worse in her sleep?_  Was he bigger, more intimidating? Did he have claws, fangs, armor that cut her? Was he  _torturing_  her?

Her crying grew louder, and unable to bear the sight of her suffering any longer he gently guided her into his servo.

Megatron was astonished at how limp she was in her recharge as he took her in his palm, feeling her shivers as she reacted to whatever she was seeing. Guiding a finger down her side he made gentle strokes, trying to calm her without rousing her. He didn't want her to wake up in his grasp when he terrified her during the day - it surely would only be worse at night. Humans were afraid of the dark.

Eleanor stilled and quieted immensely at his touches, little optics going still under their covers. She didn't quiver any longer, her form now fully lax in his palm. Her body was squishy as it should be, fearful stiffness absent.

Perhaps now was the time to experiment with his holoform. Setting her down in the nest of covers again, he lowered himself and turned to lean back against the building, resting his frame and cracking glass windows with his weight.

Smaller now, with the body of a human male slightly older than she, he slipped into her strange, fluffy nest to lie with her back against his front. She was resting beautifully, gentle breaths so quiet he almost couldn't hear them. Cautiously Megatron moved closer, his body taller than hers by enough to tuck her helm under his chin. Her scent was delicious in its entirety, especially strong in her brown protein filaments, as he looped an arm around her waist protectively.

That was a mistake.

She awoke immediately, breathing stopping all together as she stiffened spontaneously at the presence. She knew it wasn't Wilson. Wilson, when he slept in her bed to make her feel more secure in the past days, never touched her.

This was someone else and her eyes widened in realisation, staring at the expensive material of the backrest of the couch.  _Could it be…? No one else can get up here. He made sure of that. But how is this possible?_ She swallowed, tongue thick and dry in her mouth, "Megatron?"

"Shhhh," He answered, voice similar enough that she recognized him, "sleep." An enormous hand stroked down her hip, touch too real to come from a dream.

And too sensual to ignore.

"You are incredibly pretty, little femme," he purred into her audio. His servo went back up, this time rubbing her belly before going back down. To his content she stayed where she was, submissive to his touch.

Her conqueror, the alien that had defeated her, was spooning her with a very large human form, whispering in her ear and touching her thighs. Doom washed over her, the threat of being raped making her throat capable of only screaming and sobbing, begs making their way out in jumbled sentences. Why her? Why? What had she done to draw his attention to her, to make him fixate on her person? There were far more beautiful human women if what he wanted was a toy. Why didn't he just kill her?

His knee-jerk reaction was to wrap his frightened mate in his arms, holding her tightly to him.

She couldn't move, couldn't fight the strong body behind her. She was at his complete mercy. "Please," her sobs choked her words, tears trekking down her face, "don't do this to me."

"Don't rape me." His spark broke at her words. His Queen still feared him.

The body holding her vanished, a fact that she gave no thought to as she curled under her blankets in the stressful aftermath.

Eleanor did not see the massive mech rise from his resting place, her covers too thick to allow the red light of his optics to reach her.

She froze as massive fingers tore back the couch's blankets and picked her up, a whimper coming from her throat of its own accord. His face did not soften as he raised her to it, regarding her with those massive red orbs.

He was sudden when he spoke again, making her jump. " _What must I do to prove that it is not my intention to harm you?"_ She avoided his slow approach and scooted further from his finger, towards the end of his servo, her face still glistening with tears. When she ran out of room she ducked and then curled into a tight shaking ball, sad little cries coming from within. " _Oh sweetspark, there must be a way. No one will harm you again, not with how I can protect you."_ He touched her back, stroking as lightly as he could along the tiny, squishy spine. She did not relax, but he kept his tender petting and continued his ministrations until the cries ceased and the shakes stopped. When he removed his digit she peeked up curiously to glance around, making him laugh at her sudden relaxation. That human had given him good advice after all.

Another mistake. After the first few pets she had begun to trust that he wouldn't hurt her, at least in that moment, and her overstressed body took the opportunity to relax. Immediately, upon hearing that chuckle and feeling the deepness of it, her muscles stiffened and her mind was back under the influence of adrenaline. Had he finally caught her off-guard and was rolling in his victory? Had getting her to lower her guard been a trap, a precursor to some cruel scare? She didn't know, but her body didn't care.

Her muscles hardened and started quivering again, her body tense and taut like a band about to snap. Her whimpers did not come back but she did start trying to avoid him again, rushing back and forth in his hand. She did not expect it to tilt as his frustration mounted.

Annoyed that she was skittish again when she had relaxed before, he growled and tilted his servo so that she was rolled into the waiting one below. Quickly he moved to grasp her in a fist, only her helm and shoulders visible from within the confines of his servo.

He was going to crush her. That deep, thundering growl said so. " _P-please_ ," she stuttered, squirming in her tight restraints, desperate. "I don't w-want to d-die.  _Please_."

She thought that he was going to hurt her, that small, adorable little voice shaking so horribly as she begged for her life. This, so soon after she had assumed he was going to rape her, his helpless and so adorable mate. He cycled a slow vent, calming his annoyance and regarding her wide, tiny optics in consideration of his options.

Eleanor shut her eyes in terror as he raised a finger towards her, her lungs in constant movement as she neared hyperventilation. She was not expecting his touch to be kind, gentle, and light as he made it.

 _Shhh, little one._ He petted her helm, proving himself to her. It seemed to be working again and her body was starting to soften a little, her vents slowing as her organic spark relaxed its heavy pulsing. What else had the human suggested?

Talking to her.

"There you are," he breathed, smiling as she didn't flinch at the sound of his voice, "It's much nicer this way, yes?"

She didn't reply, still in his servo. " _That's a good little femme,"_ he purred in Cybertronian, aware now that such comments would alarm her. She wriggled, but not in desperation as she had before. Perhaps his grip was a little tight - that he could easily remedy.

She gasped in a deep breath as the pressure on her lungs went away, allowing him to lie her down in his palm.  _I don't think he's going to hurt you, at least not physically,_ Wilson had said.

He was petting her on her head still, even though the rest of her was exposed. Perhaps Wilson was right. Maybe he didn't want her to be hurt. He had immediately left her alone when she had mentioned rape.

But what, then, did he want? He treated her like a pet and a… consort at the same time.

She calmed, quiet and relaxed. "What do you want from me?" She breathed quietly, so small that he almost didn't hear her.

He couldn't tell her his intentions. Not after how she had reacted to his presence in her berth. "You are…"

She stared up at him blankly. Surely a chaste compliment would only further him with her? "...such a fascinating and wonderful creature, one worth keeping." He couldn't believe the sappy quality of his words, but his spark stopped pulsing in anticipation of her response.

Her stomach clenched at the degradation. She was an animal to him. She should have guessed. What else could the treats and petting mean? She might as well have been a hamster or guinea pig.

"So a pet." Eleanor said matter-of-factly, dread and humiliation and anger mixing beneath the surface of her acceptance. She was frozen again. Serious.

"No. Never an animal." She didn't look as though she believed him, relief not making an appearance at all.

"Then what am I?"

She was making it hard for him to avoid the truth, but he had no choice. Megatron would not make her panic by telling her what he wanted her for. She didn't trust him yet, and only then could his intentions come forth. "You shall see," was the only answer he had for her as he set her back down in her little nest, his fingers managing to pinch the coverings and wrap them over her.

"Now sleep."  _Recharge well, precious Queen. "_ I will leave you." As much as it annoyed him that his mate couldn't recharge in his evidently menacing presence, nothing could be done now. It was best to leave her alone.

He had work to do, as always.

Wilson hid himself in the shadows of his apartment, the thought of what he had just seen and the knowledge of what the titanic monster wanted with his President making him ill. How long could he keep what he knew secret for his President's well-being? How long before it crossed the line from safeguarding to treason?

* * *

Stay tuned for Part Two!


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Sorry I spent almost a month working on an update for this, but I wanted it to be good. :)
> 
> Implied Megatron/Starscream. More warnings for robots being ignorant about the care of humans. 

 

There were days where she felt as though she would never stop crying. Days where no specific reason would arise, but she just felt the need to weep. Her world was collapsing around her, and she didn't know what to do about it. She didn't know that she  _could_  do anything about it. Even though her heart desired so strongly to just  _scream_ without hindrance, to hear it echo down the empty city streets and hang in the cool fall air, to spare Wilson she had muffled it with a pillow.

That was until Megatron had taken him away. The robot had figured out that he was visiting her and scooped him right out of his apartment, making sure that she saw him curl his enormous hand around her last hope. He  _ **wanted**_ her to watch as her bodyguard was taken away, her final shred of normalcy vanishing down Park Avenue clasped in a titanic charcoal fist.

She didn't think he was dead, but she didn't know anymore. That had been at least a week ago now. And Lord knew that she didn't even want to open another can of worms with worrying about Natalie.  _Please be alright, both of you._

_You were all the family I had left._

The world outside New York was silent, and she never saw anyone or anything but Megatron prowling the streets. No stray dogs. No half-starved cats. No pesky pigeons. The trees, on these days, were always silent. It was as if she and Megatron were the only beings left alive. On occasion she wondered what had happened and why she neither saw nor heard anything. It had been a few weeks since her kidnapping, by her count on a tattered paper calendar. She had thought that she would have seen a sign by now.

No. Nothing.

Tears streamed down her face, a dreary combination of pain, stress, and worry, with just a twinge of dread. Countless lay dead in the rubble around her, and countless more were forever changed as the alien robots had taken over Lord-knows how much land. Would they continue to slaughter? Or was there another atrocity, another fate, in store for her people? An icy bolt hit her heart on this particular day, making her pause and clench in shock.

In all honesty, she was surprised that a nuclear bomb hadn't been dropped by  _ **someone**_ to stop Megatron. It would have made sense.

Little did she know that Megatron had anticipated such a move and stopped it before it could kill his darling mate. His heavy order had come down and she was kept safe, not even sensing that she had been in imminent danger. However, Eleanor  _ **did**_ know, with every microscopic fibre of her being, that what he wanted with her was potentially malicious.

Probably  _ **very**_ malicious.

It made no sense to keep her alive. With nothing to do but stare at the ruins and play the same mindless games, she would wonder,  _Why am I here? Why does my jailer continue to feed me and contribute to my existence?_ The pillow was damp against the skin of her face, soaked thoroughly with tears.  _When will he kill me? Will Wilson go first, or will I?_

_Why is he playing with me like this? Why must I allow him to treat me like a toy?_

Eleanor did not dare admit it to herself, but deep within the dark confines of the most hidden part of her mind, she knew that she didn't want to know the answers to her mind's helpless ramblings.

Laserbeak monitored dutifully, his orders now to watch the human for his master. The picture was always clear, far too clear for Megatron's liking. He knew that this leaking, called "crying", was normal among humans, especially with females. He found that it served a valid purpose, that it helped relieve stress and show fear. This reason alone made his spark feel something it hadn't in ages, but the other factor also worried him.

Crying, as his research said, was also a way to appear more vulnerable and submissive to an attacker. Hence why she had started leaking when he had decided to cuddle with her in her berth.

His mate thought that he was a threat. Even after all of his displays that he was her protector and her provider, she was weeping in his absence. He visited her more, but all Laserbeak showed him was her crying  _increasing_.

Anger was starting to take the place of his sadness. He went to Wilson for advice more and more often, but little seemed to be working. Perhaps it was not enough to spend tiny moments with her and bring her fuel.

Megatron shut off the datapad and clasped his chin in thought, staring ahead at the star charts cast above his desk aboard the  _Nemesis_. He wouldn't start the process to cyberform her until she trusted him, at least a little. He couldn't even speak to Soundwave and Shockwave about his plans until she was less uneasy around him.

Wilson had suggested as much when he had said that she was emotionally fragile at the moment. Any sudden changes, the human had been clear to enunciate, could not be made now. Therefore if she was uncomfortable with himself, he could not introduce her to others that had the potential to harm her, at least from her perspective. She would have to trust his ability to protect her before she was sure enough to see other mechs.

If it could have been his way, Megatron would have preferred that she meet no one at all - that he could lock her away within his sparkchamber to keep her familiar and trusting only in him.

He purred at the thought of his face being the only one she would see, his touch all she would ever feel, his voice the only one she would hear. An idealistic and unfulfillable fantasy, but those were the best kind; a true delicacy.

Megatron shook himself, aware now of his arousal and disgusted that he had let his own mind wander. Perhaps, if all she knew was his gentleness, she could see his strength at its finest to allow her comparison. She would physically  _see_ that he had the ability to kill her, but chose not to.

Perfect.

* * *

Starscream was not stupid, only unlucky. One could not have risen to Air Commander under Megatron if they were the former, but it just so happened that the Seeker gave Megatron the opportunity the warlord had been waiting days for.

Unlucky indeed.

As soon as he had learned that his trinemate had taken a human at Megatron's command, the red and blue Seeker was intrigued. Thundercracker had given him the details, albeit reluctantly, informing his trine leader that the only world leader that wasn't terminated was last seen being held by Megatron.

The treacherous Seeker saw an opportunity, a glimmer at the end of the dark tunnel that was Megatron's leadership. If he could find this human and it was still alive, he had a reason to launch a coup that would earn the support of his fellow Decepticons.

For cycles he had plotted, carefully scouring the city and trying his hardest to avoid probing by Soundwave. The human was in the city  _somewhere_. He was sure of it. Laserbeak, unluckily for Starscream, was across the park when the traitorous jet found her.

Megatron, in the same unfortunate token, was watching his mate eat at the time (it was such an alarmingly rare sight, but extremely adorable) and considering reasons for her loss of interest in the food. There was a puzzling variety at the stores he had raided - perhaps she didn't like what he was giving her? Did males have different diets and fuel types than females? Had he been giving her sustenance that was not meant for her? Maybe taking her to one of those places would be best so that she could choose what she preferred.

He had researched other causes of appetite loss on the human networks, but all the results had given him was a crash in the processor.  _Causes of loss of appetite include pregnancy, metabolic problems, chronic liver disease, COPD, dementia, HIV, hepatitis, hypothyroidism, chronic kidney failure, heart failure, cocaine, heroin, speed, chemotherapy, morphine, codeine, and antibiotics._ He was not a medic for his  _own_ kind, though he had once wished to be, and he didn't want to take her to Hook if he had just been bringing her the wrong feed. Megatron would save the picky Constructicon for life-threatening situations only for the time being.

An even more worrisome sight than his mate starving herself was his treacherous second creeping towards her nest. The datapad clattered to the desk as he jolted upwards and strode out the door. " _Starscream! Why are you not present in Command?"_ he commed, now on his way to the space bridge of the  _Nemesis_. There was no reply.

Eleanor knew that if Megatron didn't kill her, the food he gave her would. All he ever seemed to bring was considered "junk food." She had tried to ration out the few canned fruits and vegetables in the apartment, but all she had left after an estimated month was one can of pumpkin filling.

She didn't eat much anyway. Stress had steadily worn her appetite down like sandpaper on paint. Even if she  _was_ eating, she wouldn't complain and risk him denying her food at all.

Familiar, enormous, crashing footsteps sounded in the distance. The birds that had returned to Central Park across the ruined street silenced. The sound of Megatron getting closer, gradually eclipsing the sound of a breeze through the trees, was all she heard.

Eleanor set aside the half-eaten candy bar and made as if to move from the table when all of the robots changed forms. Dozens of pairs of red eyes looked at her in a threat to stay where she was. To obey their - and hers, she realised with a sad twinge of the gut - Master. She knew that to disobey meant painful shocks to her legs, tiny needles poking holes in her ill-fitting, stolen pants to deliver electricity into her body.

The closer those footsteps got, however, the more the sounded less and less like Megatron's. They were lighter, quicker, less like a giant's heavy-footed stomps and more like a cat's quick prowling.

 _ **Another**_  robot? By the time she noticed, it was too late.

Its head was black, drawing more attention to the massive red protrusions that jutted up from its shoulders. A form shorter than Megatron's cast a shadow in the golden evening light of early winter, red eyes narrowed as a smirk of malicious victory twisted its metal mouth.

"Who are you?" She dared to whisper, hoping that this one also spoke English as she clutched her chair. When she thought about it now, it seemed odd that Megatron had. If only the President had known  _why_  the giant mech had been so careful.

And that he had long left the datapad on his desk, running to rescue her. Megatron had seen how Starscream could tear humans apart - he himself knew how easily they crushed under one's ped. Eleanor would not meet the same cruel fate. The thought alone made his spark constrict and flare.

The smirk grew wider as the robot answered her. She had not expected it to speak English, but the screechy quality of its voice arguably surprised her more. The woman had assumed that their tones would be the same, given that they were  _robots._

Regardless, she had to admit that she perferred Megatron's to  _this_.

"I have found you," it hissed. "I must thank you, little femme."

That word again. Megatron had used it once or twice in his deep timbre.  _It must been an equivalent of 'female.'_  "I don't understand."

" _Because of you, Megatron will fall as leader of the Decepticons and I, Starscream, will take his place."_  It had switched to their language inexplicably, and she didn't like it. When Megatron would talk to her in his tongue, it was always in a slow and deliberate tone. This robot, though, sneered his words. Her heart pounded in her ears, panic flooding her brain's neurons as adrenaline was pumped into her veins. She was still nervous around Megatron, but she hadn't been this terrified since he had kidnapped her.

That black hand inched towards her like the head of snake, malicious and on the hunt, as the monster it was attached to continued to chatter away.

Why didn't it kill her already? She was tired of this game. The more she thought about it, though, the more she wanted to escape, which in turn only led to more thoughts of the futility of it all. She was a toy to these beings, a living doll to dress, to feed, and to nurture; to strip, to starve, and to torture. She had no say, but she did have a voice.

"Why are you doing this?" Eleanor pleaded, despising the fearful tonality in her voice even after weeks of being at Megatron's mercy. Powerless even to her own instincts, it seemed.

Soundwave, being the loyal mech he was, wondered but did not question why his typically cool leader was so concerned as to be in such a hurry. Though Megatron was never a mech to waste time, he never rushed. The tapedeck knew that Laserbeak was surveilling a human for his master, but it escaped him as to why.

Perhaps, he surmised, it was a toy. To properly demonstrate that he was in control, he needed to keep it from Starscream, the traitorous second that constantly held a blaster to the back of his Commander. Interest piqued, he turned from his console to pick up on Laserbeak's feed.

Indeed. Just as he had believed.

Right as the hand was about to grab her, something like the crashing of a massive waterfall was followed by pounding, colossal footfalls. She couldn't process it, between the hand and the sounds, and before she knew it a blur of gun metal grey hit the jet like a gigantic freight train would a obstructive car. He didn't stop; he just kept going, as if the other figure hadn't been there at all.

The crash made her cover her ears and close her eyes, dust and insulation shaken from the building itself in the quake that nearly threw her off her feet. The most horrible sound was not that of significant debris falling from her shelter, or even that of asphalt being crunched to dust.

The  _clang!_ followed by the terrible, horrible, squeals of metal on metal felt like screwdrivers being drilled into both of her ears. Despite this, when she opened her eyes, she couldn't help but creep to the open wall. She didn't know if it was stupidity or just plain curiosity, but somehow Eleanor found herself on the edge, hands gripping rough exterior.

Megatron had the other robot pinned to the ground with one hand on its neck. The other was raised up, coiled behind him and ready to punch. She could see other limbs more clearly now, appendages that looked like wings.

The same hand that had gently pet her came down across the other robot's face with terrifying speed and strength. Black paint and pieces came away from the jet's mouth as Megatron yelled in their language.

_What is this?_

Megatron, aware that his mate was watching, stood from the crushed street and took Starscream with him. Eleanor gasped as the jet was lifted in a single hand, held up by that one titanic arm, and covered her mouth as Megatron bent over and threw it into the street again.

The android cried out as furious clangs commenced, blow after blow caving in the metal of its torso. Metal continued to buckle and terrible cracks echoed up to her as the cockpit glass felt the indirect impacts of Megatron's powerful hands.

_What_ _**is** _ _this?_

Starscream gagged as his Master plucked him back up from the fleshlings' filthy road, servos scrabbling ineffectually at the Emperor's grip. He had his blasters, but he dared not use them. He knew from experience that they would only infuriate him further.

" _Trying to protect your disgusting little_ _ **pet**_ _?"_ He spat against his better judgement. Why was Megatron so bent on keeping it safe? He didn't know what a healthy human looked like, but that leader wasn't hurt and it had spent at least a deca-cycle under the heavy servo of Megatron.

" _No,"_ Megatron seethed, " _Trying to punish my foolish_ _ **traitor**_ _of a second in command."_ He added within his own furious mind,  _and impress my mate._ He hooked another blow into Starscream's side, this time grabbing armor and peeling it back.

Eleanor  _was_ impressed, but she was leaning towards the horrified end of the scale.  _This is what… is what... he could do to…_ _ **me**_ _._

_That is what this is. He wants to scare me more, doesn't he?_

_Well, I won't play this game._

Megatron flared his plating and roared in the pained faceplates of his Air Commander, gnashing denta for Eleanor's benefit, though Starscream's optics were shuttered at this point. A wing flicked, catching his attention.

His servo curled around the edge of the light, sensor-packed tip, thumb stroking it mockingly, before clenching forcefully. Starscream howled, having expected it and barely getting out a beg before white-hot pain flashed up his wing and errors flooded his display. The sensation of crushing wing metal in this manner was ages-old to the tyrant, almost as old as the war itself, but this time it felt  _different_. He felt  _far_ more powerful this time, his frame surging with energy. Eleanor was watching, and he finally named the feeling.

_Pride._

His conquest had just watched him pummel another mech into the street, witnessed his fierceness and murderous capabilities in the metaphorical flesh. Surely, since she had seen nothing but gentleness on his part, this would further himself with her. She had a sense now that his affection, his protection, was exclusive.

Eleanor, however, involuntarily replayed the sight of him, her kidnapper and keeper, grabing an enormous wing in a single hand and crumpling it as if it was tin foil. Her mind laughed hysterically, a soundtrack to the gruesome scene.  _No wonder he could backhand entire military jets, walk through fire like air, and withstand bullets like rain._

She choked back a sob of hopelessness, but then remembered the game.

His domination of Starscream was not quite complete, however, but this was all she could see. Wilson had said that she would be worried about rape, and the sight of him merging with Starscream would appear as exactly that if one had no knowledge of Decepticon dynamics. " _You know what happens next,"_ he growled at the gasping, defeated jet.

Starscream, as best as he was able with his neck engulfed, nodded in defeat. " _Is this why you rebel, Starscream? To get this?"_ Megatron laughed, startling Eleanor, and walked down the street. It would take only a few kliks to finish putting Starscream in his place, and then he would return to visit his mate and observe his effect.

Best to give her a few minutes to fully comprehend his might, but Laserbeak should continue to watch her in case another dared try to touch what was his. He simply sent a ping and resumed his smirk at Starscream. His second in command, true to form, smirked back and wriggled his hips as Megatron continued to dangle him.

Typical; getting beaten to a pulp a klik ago and now intent on getting fragged.

His mate's bodyguard could be just as testy as Starscream, but Megatron wasn't going to punish him for that. He accepted that Wilson only wanted to protect her, but he didn't understand yet that he wasn't a threat.

_Or the male doesn't believe that I will be a suitable mate._

Megatron closed the sequence to comm. Soundwave for a ground bridge and instead continued his walk. Perhaps, if Wilson got a display of his more… intimate abilities he would improve his standing in the optics of the male. If nothing else, respect for his strength would be impossible for the human to avoid.

Yes, showing the human that his femme would be…  _taken care of_  would make things far easier.

* * *

What Eleanor had just seen must have been a power play. Otherwise, it just didn't make sense. How would Megatron have known? What were the odds of him arriving just as that other robot was about to snatch her up?

The reaction didn't make sense either. Why was he so  _ **angry**_?

The sight had been beyond anything she was capable of imagining, the clangs and screeches still ringing in her ears. Megatron's strength… still  _amazed_ her, the memory of the afternoon sun gleaming behind him and shining off his metal was deceptive, depicting him as the knight rather than the monster. She had already seen him destroy with ease, why was this such a surprise?

She went back, steps and hands shaking, to the table. The dark wood grain became extremely fascinating beneath its perfect, expensive finish. In the distance, she heard yells and more clangs. Megatron must have continued his beating elsewhere.

Something whistled through the air and hit the open edge of the apartment with a crash.

The President fell out of her chair in shock, heart hammering all over again when she saw what greeted her. It was the type of thing out of a nightmare, with long, black wings and a head like a vulture. Red eyes - how she was  _sick_ of red eyes - peered at her curiously. It seemed to be perching with its feet clasping the edge of the apartment, in much the way a bat might. The same symbol that was emblazoned on Megatron's chest was displayed prominently on the center of its head.

She was done with robots that she didn't know. She was done with dealing with robots  _ **period**_. She turned to leave, briskling making for the door to the private hallway to find sanctuary in another room of the spacious apartment.

Then, it trilled at her. Low, quiet, happy-sounding. Dare she think it?

 _Cute._ She didn't remember seeing this one on any of the footage. Its head hung low as it regarded her, and it trilled again. It was just a bird, a harmless creature, even if it was taller than she was.

Laserbeak had changed his cameras to better follow his leader's orders, carefully concealing the one on his helm and trading it for footage from his optics. The human that Megatron was so intrigued with had stopped leaving at the sound of his quiet calls, a guess that paid off.

It was creeping closer, peering at him curiously. It vocalised something that he didn't understand, wet optics searching his as it took yet another step forward.

"Hello," she greeted the bird softly. Eleanor hadn't thought about these robots having pets, or animal equivalents. "I don't suppose that you understand me, do you?"

If he was going to have to sit here with nothing to do but stare at this human until he was ordered away, he might as well understand what it was saying. It would prove amusing. Using a recording, he quickly identified the human tongue it was using and downloaded the pack. While he was at it, he recognized the human as a female.

"I haven't had anyone to talk to for a week now." She murmured to herself, watching the vulture from several yards away. It hadn't attacked by now, dare she get any closer? It looked friendly, more so than Megatron and definitely more than the jet. She had always liked animals.

Laserbeak, curious and increasingly bored, trilled again. The human smiled, a remarkably Cybertronian-like expression, and came closer. She didn't appear to be damaged at all, a fact that the cassette found odd.

Eleanor stayed at a respectful distance, and the two simply regarded each other as the sun set and a final, calamitous cry came from the distance. Half of her was berating her for staying so close and not cowering, but the other part was tired of being afraid. Besides, it didn't want to hurt her. If it hadn't tried to attack by now, it was likely that it wasn't going to so long as she kept her distance. It kept making friendly noises too, each chirp lowering her guard.

Her hesitation didn't last long, and Eleanor pushed the envelope, approaching and finally touching it until she heard familiar - she was sure this time - footfalls coming down the street from the direction he and that jet had gone. They sounded relaxed, calm. The bird spooked and flew upwards, its feet breaking off bits of the rough edge of the apartment as it launched itself into flight.

Before she was ready grey metal stood before her, reflecting the dying rays of the sun. A new, overpowering, almost gasoline-and-oil smell hit her nostrils, forcing her head back as if the scent had physical force. She was sure that she would have noticed that before.

"Did Starscream injure you?" Against her better judgement, she took a step back.

Then another, and another, and another until she almost landed flat on her back on the table. Her hand flew out to catch herself, smashing what remained of the candy bar she had been picking at.

His little sweetling looked scared again, optics wide and locked on him as her grip tightened on the table behind her and she rightened herself. "I expect an answer to every question." His display hadn't impressed her?

"No, he didn't." She answered robotically, still vigilant for any signs of a black hand coming for her. There was not much she could do on her part, especially with the little demons capable of enforcing his will upon her, but there was only so much she could do against her instincts at this point.

That unexpected realisation didn't make her more scared - it actually raised anger within her. How  _dare_ he come out of nowhere and isolate her from her own race? How  _dare_ he pluck her from her own home? How  _dare_ he continue to  _condescend_ and  _mock_ her?

How  _dare_ she continue to go along and pretend that this was normal? How  _dare_ she desist from fighting back?

The President rolled her shoulders back and stalked right back up to him, feeling white-hot heat behind her eyes. Trying her best to stay intimidating while she was barefoot and in salvaged, ill-fitting clothes, she snapped, "Go  _ **away**_.  _ **Now**_. Leave me  _ **alone**_."

He did nothing but raise a metal brow. If she were anyone else, he would have backhanded her into the next millennia for such blatant disrespect. As her mate, however, the only reaction he had was to feel amusement and slight concern at the tiny organic's display of anger. He had never seen her lash out like this.

Pushed beyond her limits and tired from constant adrenaline rush, she curled her upper lip in an ugly, frustrated snarl, "Why are you here? Why can't I just exist in peace?"  _What is this, the_ Twilight Zone _?_

The entire show he had put on for her was a waste if this was her reaction. Perhaps she was simply in awe and needed more time to process his might. He was no small feat for such a little, weak thing; for this reason he would dismiss her reaction as nothing but endearing. Nevertheless, he would be having a discussion with her guard on this matter.

When Megatron returned to the  _Nemesis,_ arousal sated and dominance achieved, the first thing he did was pick up the datapad and rewind Laserbeak's footage.

The last few minutes before he had arrived she finally stepped up to Laserbeak and petted his helm, smiling in just the way Circuitsia did. For the first time he saw her organic optics holding something other than fear, a sight that had his spark purring with pleasure, but also pulsing with jealousy. Soon enough, she would smile like that for him.

Soon enough, she would smile like that for their sparklings.

* * *

It no longer got warmer during the day. It was cold, always cold, like a never-ending curse placed upon her skin and aging joints. The last time Eleanor had showered she had sworn that she would freeze - even once she was out of the frigid spray, there was no way to dry her hair without any electricity. It was a miracle that she hadn't gotten pneumonia.

That had to have been at least a week ago, and she no longer wondered when the military was coming. Eleanor worried about staying alive. She had gathered all that she could to keep herself warm at night, throwing all manner of blankets onto her bed and still shivering until exhaustion took her.

There was only so long until her hand-washed laundry wouldn't dry. What would she do then? She was already filthy, even with clean clothes. Eleanor was disgusted with her physical state - more accurately,  _ashamed_. It hurt her spirits to see that rescue hadn't come, and almost as bad was her physical state.

On his next visit, it did not take long for Megatron to notice the smell that her frame was starting to exude. Her hair was limp and clung together in stubborn clumps. Her scent was becoming less of a fragrance and more of an odor.

He wasn't sure about why she had stopped bathing - it hadn't been a problem before this. He grabbed her up, having just given her another sample of food, and walked down the well-tramped path that he had carved for himself among the city's ruins.

Eleanor regarded her surroundings with surprise, grabbing a finger of the palm holding her to support herself. Megatron had never taken her from her spot before. The only times he had picked her up where to pet or examine her - the swaying motion made her stomach do flips, and the feeling of wind along her face made her shiver.

At the very least she had had the wits to wear gloves; she had no doubts that the hand cupping her was freezing.

Megatron was not sure of many things about humans, but he knew that they cleansed themselves in water just as Cybertronians did. Maybe his sparkmate was ill - she kept shuttering her little optics and quivering, holding her limbs close to her though he could tell that she was not afraid. She had  _just_ learned to relax enough that she was not scared out of her little helm. The infatuated warlord knew that he had waited a few million of her years to see his mate again; a few more to get her to trust him and return his affection would not be of consequence. If his progress continued slowly, but nonetheless continued, he would be pleased.

A gleam drew his attention from his human to his destination ahead. He knew the ick that came with having a dirty frame - when he was a miner and then an underdog gladiator he hadn't had frequent access to a washrack. Now he had his own in his cabin on the  _Nemesis_ , but the memory still drew disgust. He wasn't the type to obsessively polish, but he did place value on presentation. Circuitsia had as well, utilizing his washracks when she had lived with him. Eleanor likely felt terrible.

Stopping at the edge of a shipping dock that groaned beneath him, Megatron started to bend. Eleanor realised all too late what he was intent on doing and before she could protest the mech had carefully placed her in the water below. She clung fiercely to his servo at first, optics going wide and mouth opening in shock, but all it took was a good pull under and she let go, coming to the surface and gasping.

She was sure that she had never been so cold in her entire life. Even the shower she had taken a week ago was warmer than  _this_. The rank water swirled around her as he dunked her under forcefully, not even giving her enough time to recapture breath she had lost. The second that she spent clasped in his fist lasted an eternity, liquid having seeped through her clothes to make her bones ache and her sides hurt. She felt as though the water had stolen her breath from her.

Her skin was already prickled with goosebumps as she was allowed to surface, rancid water running down her face and making its way into her mouth. Thought escaped her mind, an absence familiar to her, and she followed her instincts and tried to climb up his hand. Her sodden gloves gave her no grip even if he had allowed her to crawl up, and the metal was slick with liquid.

He dunked her under again, and it was all she could do to gasp in a breath before she was shrouded in the murky depths again. A gentle finger scrubbed at her head this time, making her head hurt even more than it already was. She was going to turn into a human popsicle if he didn't stop.

Her breath hitched, her lungs spasming as heat was wrenched from her overstressed, frozen body. She couldn't breathe. Her muscles were too cold to move and all she could manage was the smallest of shallow breaths when he pulled her out again.

Fear, unfortunately, was not a lending friend when one needed to ration their air.

Megatron was sure to gingerly rub her helm with a finger, clearing up some of the oils that her frame secreted. Eleanor was no longer thrashing, a fact that drew a flicker of a smile upon his faceplates. She was allowing him to care for her, finally trusting him to pet her helm for longer than a nanoklik. He fully submerged her several times to ensure that Eleanor was properly washed - he would settle for nothing less than perfect.

After he was sure that she was clean, Megatron lifted her fully from the water and brought her closer to his olfactory array.

The fetid scent was not something he had prepared for, his Energon rising up in his intake. Instead of his mate being cleaned, she smelled of the putrid torture chambers of the  _Peaceful Tyranny_ , of the slave camps he had instituted to reap Earth's resources. She reeked of death, refuse, and organic filth. His servo smelled of it as well, and he stooped to study the water itself. One whiff of it made him jerk his helm back and numb his olfactory sensors.

He looked back at his mate, the tiny femme curled up on her side, eyes closed, her skin white and lip components blue. She wasn't shivering - she wasn't even moving. Usually, if his sensors were on their finest setting, he could feel the small puffs of her exvents against his plating. What was floating across his armor now barely resembled one of those; he even questioned whether it was even there.

"Eleanor, what's wrong?" Her lips moved, but only barely.

He was getting frustrated, "Speak up." He had cleaned her just as humans did, sure to be careful with his fingers and her miniscule, so fragile helm.

"Cold," she muttered, deathly still in his servo. Dirty water dripped from his servo to the river below. Megatron touched a digit to her, scanning for temperature. He remembered picking her up and petting warm, supple skin that wasn't stiff nor cool.

How could he have been so  _careless_? He had known from the beginning that she needed to be kept warm - and then he had used far too cold and also filthy water to bathe her.

His jaw gears clenched with anger as his servo curled around her protectively. He turned sharply on his heel and brought her to his chassis, directing more Energon flow to his servo to warm her up.

She barely thought about how the rocking motion of his quick pace was making her sick. The sensation of her limbs turning to stone, of the joints in her fingers locking up, and ice crystals forming in her hair consumed her consciousness.

Megatron checked his servo again, frowning at her. At least she looked more colorful again - as colorful as a human could be without paint - and she had shifted. "How do you feel, Eleanor?"

No amount of freezing cold could keep it from entering her mind, that voice that seemed to come from everywhere. Annoyance flared up in her - how dare he ask that after ignoring her protests and almost  _killing_ her?

Hell, she could still be very much dead. The charcoal metal around her was heating up, but that would be for naught if she didn't get clean, warm clothes. How could he  _pretend_ to  _care_? She answered him with a pointed grimace and a prompt turn to face midnight alloy beneath her.

Megatron snorted a vent, restraining himself from crushing her within his servo. She needed to be warmed up further and properly cleaned, and the washracks in her own nest were his only other option for  _clean_ water.

Taking her on board the  _Nemesis_  was not feasible.

However, he could not operate her washracks. Even if he could reach them without demolishing her shelter, the controls meant for such little servos would surely be pulverized within his own grip. A not-so-subtle growl emerged from his throat as he turned quickly and snatched up a startled Wilson, continuing still down a ruined avenue.

The bodyguard swallowed, the memory of Megatron's display still too fresh in his mind, even though it must have been at least a week ago. He allowed himself a little squirm and directed all of his attention to other, closed hand. What else could possibly be in that hand, cupped so protectively, but the President? "How is she?"

 _My show of dominance will keep it compliant and away from_ _ **my**_ _femme. It will not dare harm her._ Megatron found that he liked the thought of keeping this guard under his ped, slowly destroying it from within without Eleanor even knowing. He would be sure to merge with his Queen somewhere the human mech could at least hear that it had lost to a much bigger, much stronger male.

The thought would have made Wilson sick and then  _irate_  - the guard already knew he was helpless. The best he could do was keep her healthy, since currently escape was not plausible with his own miniature robot guards.

"She needs care, fleshling. I assume you know what it is that she needs." Delicately he set his mate inside, stroking a tender digit against a tiny cheekplate, before nonchalantly plunking Ben inside.

Ignoring the usual painful landing, eyes already on his revealed President as she lay huddled on the floor, he gasped, "What did you do?" He feared that she was dead, she was so still and her body so stiff.

"Sherman!" The word slipped out of his mouth as he crawled over to her, inspecting her quickly as fingers pressed against a pale, icy neck to hunt desperately for a pulse.

"Ben," she breathed, eyes not opening, " _please_." Her clothing, even the insulated winter coat she wore, glistened with water, and the scent was unlike anything in his experience.

"Madam, I'm here," he consoled, turning from worried to furious as he directed his gaze at Megatron. Fear evaporated as he picked her up, bridal style, and unabashedly shouted at their captor "What did you do to her? Dump her in the Hudson?!"

Red eyes narrowed but he took no care. Eleanor nodded, the gesture barely visible. "Yes." Flabbergasted and exhausted by alien lifeforms, he dismissed himself to carry her to the bathroom, leaving Megatron to watch them disappear into the recesses of his mate's shelter.

Megatron scowled, determined not to make the same mistake again, " _Ensure that the bath is warm."_ He ordered sternly, drones immediately changing forms and hurrying to go about their task.  _I should find her a gift. Something special._

His spark sank as he realised,  _so much for slow and steady progress._

The agent quickly removed the sodden outer garments, ignoring the smaller robots that had followed them into the bathroom. The faucets around the circular marble tub came on and he heard the sound of steam rising from it, the hissing of a superheated object being dropped into cool water.

He shook his head and continued as far as he dared only for her to smirk a little, lids closed. "Wilson, don't worry about it." Orders were orders, but he was sure to avert his eyes as he removed the rest of the clothing and picked her up again, going over to the tub and lowering gently until she was submerged.

Wilson cast a wary glance to the robots occupied by the pool, seemingly heating the water, before he snatched up several towels and placed them at the ready by the bath.

"He kept me warm, Wilson, using his  _hand_." Eleanor's cheeks had warmed, a ghost of rosy shade coming back. "Why would he do such a thing?"

 _You don't want the answer to that._ An idea forming in his mind, he grabbed the towels up again and retraced his path back to the front of the apartment, back to Megatron.

"She says that you warmed her up." The guard held out the cloths flatly, "Perhaps you could heat these up as well?" The tone hid thinly Wilson's angry sarcasm.

"Of course." A thumb and forefinger pinched the stack, an entire hand enveloping them. Megatron's mouth opened as if to add something else, when the massive head cocked itself to the side and the jaw closed.

Unicron curse this timing. The care of Eleanor had taken his processor away from his duties as Supreme Commander and Emperor of the Decepticons, and the memory of his upcoming slave inspections had evaded his CPU.

" _Thank you Soundwave. Megatron out."_ Who was to care for her while he was gone? Laserbeak was friendly with her, as he had witnessed on his datapad, but the spy was needed for surveillance and inspection of the slave camps that were finally ready for his visit.

She couldn't be left with Wilson. He didn't trust that his dominance would hold in his absence. Soundwave and Thundercracker were the best candidates; since he could not spare a Seeker, he was left with one option.

" _Soundwave,"_ Megaron commed, wishing that more of his officers would be so prompt, " _I have another matter to discuss with you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay ready for Part Three!


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rumble and Frenzy have been downsized for the purpose of this story. They are about human size now, even though in IDW they were much larger. The colors often seem inconsistent with these two as far as canon goes, so Rumble is black and red and Frenzy is purple.
> 
> Nanoklik - about 1 second
> 
> Cycle - 1 hour 15 minutes
> 
> Astrosecond - 0.498 seconds
> 
> Mega-cycle - 93 hours (almost 4 days)
> 
> Deca-cycle - 3 weeks
> 
> Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
> 
> Solar cycle - 1 day
> 
> WARNINGS for more robots who know nothing about humans and don't bother to care. Strong warning on gore and overall squeamishness, mentions of slavery and human dissections. Thoughts of suicide.

 

Eleanor froze and grimaced as the torn, raw skin of her back was tweaked as she shifted, a little more blood trickling down into her covers. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, careful of her swollen ankle. There was a time that she had wished that Megatron would disappear, but now…

How she longed for him to come back, even if he had kidnapped her, demolished New York, fed her trash, and dumped her in the Hudson in what was a poor excuse for a bath; Megatron was better than the monsters watching her now.

She held her breath as the ominous, black paws prowled across the carpet, claws shredding the expensive material with horrible quick  _riiiiippp_  sounds - the resulting strings reminded her of torn muscle fibres. The panther and the two "twins" knew where she was - it would be so easy to find her under the couch. She supposed that her novelty had run itself out.

Eleanor wasn't about to invite their attention again either, so she stayed under the couch - though her injuries left her no choice. At least her own body heat kept her from freezing, and the smell of the dust of the bottom of the once-priceless furniture no longer tickled her nose.

The paws left the living space, going towards what had used to be "her" bedroom, allowing her to breathe again.

About a week ago Megatron had left, and after a few days a new, faceless robot had come. She had only seen it once, but she remembered that odd mask in place of a mouth and a red visor that acted like a pair of sinister sunglasses. It was from it that those three barbarians had come.

On the first day she had been defiant. Under the incorrect assumption that she could be assertive, as with Megatron, she had turned her nose up at them and left, going back to her business.

They never talked to her; they never spoke in English. They mostly left her alone, deciding to trash the apartment instead. Somehow a fight had started between the two that had her hiding under her bed from the loud, flinch-worthy ruckus, the splintering and inhuman shouts.

She had come out hesitantly to inspect the damage and found the remains of a kitchen hit by a tornado. All of her food, as terrible as it was, was  _gone,_ smashed to inedible bits. All that was left were splinters of wood from mahogany cabinets and crumbled marble that had once been expensive countertops, a hazy dust still hanging in the air.

Listening to the ancient warning signs flashing in the back of her brain, she had hidden under her bed. Nonetheless, tt wasn't long before they had grown bored of themselves and tried to confront her.

_Heavy footsteps were her only warning before the black and red creature bent and looked at her in her spot under the bed, blood-red visor glowing with crimson malevolence to match the sinister smirk. "Hey fleshy," it purred at her in English, "come out and let us have a look at you."_

The memory of the words and the relentless groping that had followed had made her shiver. Her shell-shocked mind played back the horror of the memory, gruesome and humiliating details all present, like a broken record.

" _Such an odd thing!" The purple one commented as the black one hefted her up. She had had no choice but to come out, fear making her complacent. The panther stared at her, red eyes so much colder than the vulture's. At least that animal had been friendly. With this one she was afraid to even look at it, let alone approach it, and those needle-like_ _ **teeth**_ _..._

" _You hold it!" Abruptly she was tossed like a sack of potatoes, the other robot catching her with one hand and holding her as far away from itself as it could, disgust plain on his face. The other doubled over with laughter, mocking its twin, "Can't take holding uh little squishy, Frenzy?" He sounded juvenile in tone in comparison to Megatron -_ perhaps it is the astronomical size difference.

" _If you like it so much Rumble, you hold it!" An angry Frenzy tossed her right back with amazing force, only for Rumble to catch her again, this time by her hair._

_She howled and screamed, her neck brutally yanked by the force and body swinging violently as her hands scrabbled at his. Sharp pricks like needles came from her scalp, all the individual follicles under great strain._

_Luckily she was probably 30 pounds lighter than about a month ago._

_A few more times of being thrown back and forth like a hacky sack, those rough hands bruising more than just her flesh, she had snapped._

" _Stop it! Now!" She got her wish, but her situation only worsened._

_Rumble grabbed her mercilessly, fingers making yet more bruises on her shoulders as he held her by her underarms. His face got so close to hers that she could smell the metallic scent, feel his hot breath,"We won't hurt you, squishy."_

_The "promise" was sneered, and effortlessly she was flipped around. Frenzy got close to her, mirroring his twin's savage expression. "Not_ _**permanently** _ _." An icy tingle went down her spine, the sharp teeth of the panther appearing in a menacing grin._

_They moved on as if nothing had happened, Frenzy raising his hand and flicking her belly with his index, testing her no doubt. Her breath hitched. "Got it, human?"_

Her stomach growled, making her grab it in a futile attempt to try to quiet the noise.  _You can make it a little longer without food. You will be fine,_ she hissed as pain shot up her back.

She thought that she heard distant, faint, familiar footfalls, but immediately they were disregarded.  _I've imagined those a thousand times._

_That night she had dared to crawl out again, shaken and bearing ugly purple, to try to sleep_ _**on** _ _the bed instead of under it. They had had their fun with her and disappeared again, so she had assumed they were gone just as Megatron had._

_She was rudely pulled from her sleep - when she had finally just gotten her body to calm down - and tossed to the floor like filthy laundry. Sporting new bruises along her right side, she had staggered to her feet to see Rumble and Frenzy shamelessly perched on her bed, the frame creaking loudly under tremendous strain._

_Knowing that it was unwise to fight them and risk being "explored" again, she had waited for them to "shut off" before she had slunk out the door and ventured down the hallway to the other, rather untouched bedroom._

_The panther had scared her within an inch of her life, snarling as soon as she had opened the heavily scratched door. Frustrated and terrified, she had taken up residence in the dry bathtub, her few blankets only barely able to cushion her and keep her warm - most of them had been on her bed._

_The next morning she had narrowly escaped before Rumble and Frenzy once again fought, destroying the elegant bathroom and leaving disaster in their wake. Clutching her blankets, she had crawled under the couch and buried her face in her coverings, clenching her eyes shut to try in vain to keep herself calm._

_Crying would likely draw only unwanted attention._

With that thought in mind, she kept her sobbs internal, her hands holding her blankets in fists as the fire that was her back reignited. If he didn't return soon, she was going to die.

Food and water were provided by him, and  _only_ him. If her ankle was intact she could probably have run away (the drones were afraid of Rumble and Frenzy as well) and no one would stop her, until those three heathens figured out that she was gone.

Then she would be in the exact same position she had been in yesterday.

The President's heart hurt so horribly at her helplessness, a pained sob making it out of her chest before she could stop it and twinging her raw vocal chords. Never before had she felt this way - not even when Megatron had first caught her. She had never felt so utterly  _alone_.

" _Hey squishy, how 'bout a game?" Frenzy had approached her only an hour after her bathroom, her last source of water, was demolished. Rumble and Ravage, as she learned the panther was called, came up behind their fellow torturer._

" _Why would I want to play a game with_ _ **you**_ _?" She spent her last shred of courage on that daring question, not that it mattered - she flinched anyway. "Get away and leave me alone, you useless machines!"_

_Rumble and Frenzy, to her surprise, had laughed in their alien, static-y way at her resistance. Frenzy recovered, his expression unseen as she stared at the panther with thinly-veiled fear. It looked as though it wanted to_ _**eat** _ _her, by the gleam in those damned red eyes._

_She snarled back at it. The woman was tired and irritated, in no mood for this. Adrenaline made her think she was more brave than she was, and she snapped in pent-up anger, "What do_ _**you** _ _want, you_ _**stupid cat** _ _!?"_

_Rumble and Frenzy stopped, looked at each other, and made a quick exchange of alien words. For the first time, seriousness graced their faces - a look more menacing than any sneer or smirk they could have given._

_The quick consensus was unsettling in the same token. "Change of plans," Rumble announced with a grin, looking at Ravage and then back to her. She didn't miss the shared glance but foolishly thought nothing of it._

_Even if she had, it was not as though they would take the begs of a human._

" _If you win, you can go."_

_Two minutes later she was sprinting through Central Park, shoes wet and feet cold in the ankle-deep snow. She wasn't in shape even_ _**before** _ _she was being held captive; her toes were numb, her legs sluggish, but adrenaline helped her pound on. Primitive instincts that she had never known were awakened within her._

_Thus, she didn't know why she stopped. Perhaps it was the insufficient air in her untrained lungs, the agonizing stitch in both of her sides, the sight of so many foxes digging in the park; or, moreover, what the foxes were_ _**doing** _ _. There must have been a dozen of them, digging through the snow. Her ragged breathing stopped though she felt like a fish out of water, eyes focused on the meat scraps that some were finding and fighting over._

_A large spot in the middle of the meadow had a much thinner layer of snow over it, as if the animals were coming here regularly to feed. She ran right up to an edge, spooking a tremendous flock of ravens, and immediately a shaking hand covered her mouth at the horror._

_Human bones._

_There were hundreds of them, probably thousands, scattered about in a massive graveyard. Some still had greying flesh on them, a testament to their age, but even more telling were the green scraps of camo cloth. The sight of a ribcage sawed in half, like an enormous drill had gone through it, finally spurred her to turn around and keep running, away from mad robots and hungry panthers, away from dangerous truth that bit her worse than the winter cold._

_Not half a minute after she had made it back into the trees she heard loping behind her, heavy footfalls like a drumbeat to imminent doom. Her survival instincts gave her one last burst of speed, but there was only so much she could do hungry and dehydrated while fleeing from an alien predator._

_The drums halted and, for a split second, she thought that she would make it. Then reality, and a massive panther, slammed into her._

_She landed on the ground with a terrible scream, blind terror handing control of her voice over to her instincts. The sensation of breath being crushed out of her was so sharp that she thought that a rib might have been broken. A growl sounded in her ear, hot breath making her wriggle harder. Later she would only think of how sickeningly_ _**playful** _ _it sounded, like a cat snatching up a trapped mouse._

_Her coat was grabbed at the nape and torn away effortlessly, leaving only the sleeves on her arms. Two heavy paws landed at the top of her back and one last growl rumbled in her ears. If it wanted to, it could crush her with its weight. She cried out, and the claws sank in._

_White, blinding pain came from her back, the soft skin no match for such sharp, unyielding claws._

_She would never forget the sound of that sickening purr as the cat slid its paws down her back, ripping her skin like tissue paper and drawing blood from veins like water from a burst dam. Tears fell to the snow before she felt them on her cheeks. Her screams grew so loud they echoed in her own brain, but not even they could block out the sound of Rumble and Frenzy, having caught up to Ravage, mocking her for her failure._

_She couldn't tell which it was, but through the laughter they managed to get out, "Humans are such easy prey, right Ravage?" The other made disgusted noises amid their snickers, "Not such a stupid cat now, is he?"_

_She was picked up by the back of her ruined shirt and dragged back to the apartment like the hunted animal she was. She had howled all the way, unable to control the pain coming from the deep marks on her back. Every time it took a step cuts would burn anew, her mind unable to quiet her mouth and keep her from screaming her vocal cords raw._

_Not only did the cuts hurt, but so did her pride at having fallen for such a trick and entered herself in such an impossible game - arguably, that was the worst injury. She felt more helpless, more_ _ **weak**_ _, than she thought was possible for a human to experience. Even though they were her size she felt so_ _ **small**_ _, like even a fly was larger than she was. Ravage grew tired at one point and dropped her to the ground. A paw set itself over her right ankle, a threat she missed in her physical and mental agony. Annoyed, the panther had pressed down in one smooth, unhindered motion. Metal cracked and crushed bone with finality, but pain did not swallow her whole in the dark embrace of unconsciousness._ I am nothing but a helpless toy, to be used and broken,  _her heart whimpered._ There will never be a way for me to escape their will.

_Rather, her mind kept her captive to hear the torture that was Rumble's next words:_

" _We were ordered not to hurt ya_ _ **permanently**_ _, but we can crush the other if ya don't stop your screeching." Heaving deep breaths in an illogical effort to numb the pain, she cowed under the threat._ I am nothing but a helpless toy, to be used and broken.  _Rumble and Frenzy laughed as Ravage grabbed her again._ There will never be a way for me to escape their will.

_She didn't dare inspect her ankle. What was the point of terrifying herself further?_

_By the time they had returned, an arm, in addition to her ankle, was also broken; the result of Ravage misjudging a step._

_Or perhaps it wasn't so inadvertent._

_She was left again to fend for herself. Without the use of the ruined ankle and arm and limited by her back, she managed to drag herself back under the couch and stay there to cry the night away._ There will never be a way for me to escape their will,  _was her sole coherent thought_.

Eleanor had awoken from her dreamless, painful, shallow sleep with a horribly sore throat, dry mouth, and unbearable heat from her swollen ankle and throbbing arm. She had grimaced at the oily feeling from her unwashed hair, clumping together in the frigid air, filth worsening her despair.

That had been hours ago. She prayed they wouldn't try anything with her again. The next time would be probably be her last, if this was "play."

They could ruin her eyes, snap her legs, add more cuts to the mosaic on her back. The could take fingers in their games if they wanted, shatter toes if they saw fit. They didn't care, because this wasn't "permanent damage." She was human, and oh so  _replaceable_ in their alien eyes.

 _Entertainment_ , a bug meant for amusement.

Perhaps this what all of them were like, and Megatron was simply better at hiding it. The idea sent a shiver down her spine, the burst of sharp pain from the trenches in her back screwing up her face.

All of these thoughts would circle in her head, a swirl that never dissipated. She was brimming with questions that couldn't be answered and thoughts that led nowhere.

"Where are ya, little human?" Frenzy called, his metal feet coming into view. Eleanor froze and tensed, shredded muscles protesting. Abruptly he bent, grinning at her maliciously.

"Don't ya wanna play a game, squishy?" Frenzy purred. At the edge of her vision, she saw Rumble's legs. His tone took on a mocking lilt, "Did Ravage scare ya bad?"

She didn't move nor reply. She knew better now than to engage them.

Her injured arm was grabbed in an iron fist and her body was pulled out, the move also stretching the ribbons of skin on her back and moreover tweaking her ankle. A scream ripped its way through her badly damaged vocal cords, or what sounded like one, until her voice gave out under the strain.

The footsteps quickened, but she dismissed them as her own heartbeat.

"Aww." Frenzy frowned, looking at Rumble, as he seized a handful of hair.  _Not again,_ she pleaded in vain as she came to be dangled by her hair. Her mouth opened and eyes shut, but no sound came from her.

"I don't think we have any more time for games, squishy. You sure were fun though." The psychotic tone of his wistful voice made her want to gag, but the sensation of a patch of hair giving way distracted her from both that and the meaning of his words.

The unexpected losses of a great percentage of the labor force had put Megatron in a foul mood that only the presence of his mate could remedy. The cuteness that she unknowingly possessed always relieved the tenseness of his frame. Watching her and caring for her gave him excellent satisfaction, and that was what he needed. His mechs would always disappoint, but his lovely would always please.

He only hoped that he, in turn, could make her happy with his gift - as primitive as it was.

He had been present during the conquering of Earth's major cities, during the defeat of the humans, during the culling of the useless and unfit slaves. He knew how human voices, as different as they could be, would always sound the same in a scream. What echoed down the street towards him, throaty and hollow and curt, was like nothing he had ever heard. The grey mech hastened towards her shelter, forgetting about the present in his subspace, concern characterizing his EM field.

Shock was what met his spark first.

The footfalls grew so loud that she couldn't deny them any longer. Familiar grey metal gleamed even under an overcast sky, red eyes widening and then narrowing in an emotion she couldn't describe. It took her a few seconds to grasp that it was Megatron looking at her, casting darkness throughout her ruined apartment.

The first thing the Decepticon leader smelled was coppery, tangy, a scent that hung heavily in the slave camps. Human blood. He first noticed the blankets, many of which he had fetched for her, splattered with heavy splotches of red, some almost black and others vibrant. It painted the floor beneath her furnishings grotesquely.

His mate stared at him form her position in Frenzy's grasp, dangling from the casette's servo by her protein strands, optics and face relieved at his presence.

 _Relieved?_ His lovely had never displayed that emotion before. Past the blood, he sensed, was the scent of fear. It rolled off of her nest in waves. All organic terror smelled the same.

Frenzy practically dropped her and pain lit up her faceplates. Her lips parted to shriek but made not a sound.

Angry and concerned about her condition, Megatron slowly picked her up with more gentleness than he thought was possible. Eleanor didn't fight, for once, but continued to leak water from her tiny optics. Not understanding what was wrong and ignoring Frenzy and Rumble as they addressed him, he simply watched as she tenderly rolled onto her belly and inadvertently revealed to him the source of the problem and the blood.

Her fragile organic exoskeleton had been cruelly marred with eight deep, red gashes that ran down the total length of her back. He could see white spots near her neck that shifted as she-

Bone. She was cut so deeply he could see her bones. She wrapped a tiny servo around one of his large digits, holding tightly. The optic that he could see was shuttered, but still leaking constantly as her body shivered.

She was crying, but not from fear this time. He couldn't smell that terrible stench anymore. His lovely mate was in pain, horrible pain.  _Could she offline?_ His processor seized.

Soundwave arrived at his shoulder, " _Lord Megatro-"_

" _She was in your care."_ His leader's voice boiled with quiet fury. Soundwave, increasingly cautious from the uncharacteristic display of anger, preformed a quick scan of the human in the tyrant's servo and reported dutifully.

" _All injuries are temporary."_

" _She was in your_ _ **care**_ _."_ Megatron cupped the fleshling to his chestplates, obscuring it from view. Shivers made his armor vibrate with rage. Soundwave cast a quick glance to the cassettes, which drew his attention.

" _My orders were to watch her and care for her. I assume that there is a_ _ **reason**_ _that I come to collect her and she is in the servos of your_ _ **incapable**_ _cassettes."_

The beginnings of a " _Hey!"_  came from Frenzy, only for Rumble to smash his servo over his partner's intake.

Soundwave was silent. The masked mech was aware that he should have watched it personally, especially seeing as how well Megatron had cared for it before. He did not know his Master's agenda, nor did he have a right to question it, but he should have cared for the human nonetheless, even though the absence of both Starscream and Megatron had made him the commanding officer aboard the  _Nemesis_.

" _I apologize for the actions of Rumble, Frenzy, and Ravage and the damage inflicted upon your pet."_ The spymaster didn't know what else the human could be. He was still analyzing why his leader would keep it alive.

Megatron's chin lifted and his optics flared. He gestured to the symbiotes, who hurriedly transformed, and Soundwave replaced them in his chest compartment. He knew that this time would come.

" _I expect, if she survives and heals, that an apology is personally extended to my mate and future Queen as well."_ Soundwave's cables tightened with newfound understanding. " _You are dismissed. Order for a groundbridge."_ She needed care immediately - the age of the wounds was uncertain. Hopefully Scrapper and Hook would be able to fix her.

" _As you order, my Lord."_ Soundwave was brimming with questions, but now was not the time.

A thumb petted her side in the darkness of his hand, the strokes gentle even though he had sounded so full of rage just a second ago. Saying that he was upset would have been an understatement.

She would have to admit that, if she had come home to find that a stranger had injured her dog, she would be mad too. Megatron could deny that she wasn't a pet all he liked, that did not make her "title" any less true. Why else would an alien keep her around?

Unlike the last time he had carried her, this time she did not grow queasy. That was something, but not much.

The conqueror did not know if the groundbridge would affect her at all, but he had little choice. She needed medical attention, and he wasn't going to bring her to a slave camp to be looked at. The first time she saw one, he wanted it to be impressive and organized - a symbol of his power and influence.

Megatron went through the groundbridge, keeping a scan active all the while. Her vitals did not change. However, a little bit of her liquid had leaked down onto his armor, warm and sticky. Even though it came from his hurt mate, it was unworthy of the Decepticon leader to bear such disgusting organic fluid.

Eleanor shifted, a little whimper of pain from within his servos dissipating the thought.  _We're almost there, sweetspark. You will not offline as Circuitsia did._

The doors of the medical bay parted for his imposing frame, revealing to him the two Constructicon leaders in discourse.

" _Lord Megatron, how may we assist you?"_ Scrapper cut off his conversation with Hook to greet his Master, eyeing the servos that seemed to contain something.

" _It needs to be repaired,"_ he answered curtly. Having to call his mate an "it" was something he detested. He drew her away faster than he wished to, setting her belly-down on a medical berth with more roughness than might have been necessary. Hook's ridges shot up; Scrapper bore no difference.

Eleanor immediately tried to decipher her surroundings as best as she could, teeth narrowly missing her lip as agony was sent up her leg and arm. Megatron's face was cold to match the room, the alien completly and unnervingly unreadable - a new expression that couldn't have come at a worse time. Purple metal was  _everywhere_ in what she could see of an  _enormous_ , table-filled space, except for Megatron's silver alien metal and the green and purple of two-

She went as still as a deer in the headlights, feeling like an insect.

" _A human, my Lord?"_ Hook looked over her from Scrapper's side. The loader cast his optics over her for a nanoklik then looked up at his Master unemotionally.

Eleanor didn't dare move, eyes straining to see the source of the new voices without turning her head too much and drawing attention to herself. Red visors gleamed down directly at her, making her heart leap into her throat. Every time she had met new robots had resulted in her being almost hurt or, like now,  _seriously_ hurt. First Starscream, then that mysterious one, then Rumble, Frenzy, and Ravage...

If she wasn't in such a state she would have remembered the bird. However, being hurt, hungry, thirsty, cold, and terrified in a new, dangerous place made her more animalistic than she ever would have thought she could be. They were talking again, and a shadow enveloped her. With a hoarse squeak she covered herself, muscles under the control of ancient instinct as the voices above her continued their banter.

" _Which modules need replacement?"_

Scrapper's scan was quick and practiced, completly ignorant of the way Hook was scowling in disgust at the leaking organic. " _It will be easier to terminate it than repair it, my liege."_ His servo came to hover ominously over his Queen, the human making a sound that none reacted to. " _It will be easy to replace - there are thousands just like it."_ He was waiting for the order to squish her.

The annoyance at having to explain himself was palpable to both Hook and Scrapper. " _It is a propaganda piece. You know which this one is."_ Behind his chestplates his spark chose more protective words.

Scrapper nodded once, setting his servo down on the medical berth, and Hook laughed scornfully in understanding. " _They are fragile to work with, but I will see what can be done."_

" _I expect to have it repaired completly upon my return, along with a report of the damage."_ He cast not one glance to his mate as he left, knowing that he would never want to leave if he did. It was clear that she could not go back to Earth - that was merely a stage, one that was growing increasingly dangerous and also one she had outgrown. It was time for her to live on the  _Nemesis,_ with her mate. He had made preparations for her eventual stay, but not enough - the gray warlord had anticipated more time.

He would go back to Earth, in the meantime, and get what he knew she needed. Perhaps he could salvage something from her destroyed nest. He would have to be quick in order to avoid suspicion from his troops.

A peak from under an arm told her that Megatron was leaving, the booming footsteps not sufficient proof.  _What does that mean for me? What is going to happen to_ _ **me**_ _?_

" _Mixmaster,"_ Scrapper called towards the back, " _is there paralysis liquid leftover from the test subjects?"_

The chemist emerged moments later from his lab, carrying the dosage with him. Long Haul poked his helm out then, believing it to be another human study, indifferently returned back to his work.

" _Can I watch? I never got to see how they reacted before."_

Scrapper indulged his request, " _Yes, but remain out of the way."_

She watched as another alien came booming up, grinning madly. Between the mask, the malicious smirk, and the disgusted frown she didn't know which was worst. Eyes locked on any form of movement, unfortunately for the captive woman. The bottle with the mysterious substance that had appeared with the third robot was poured into a container that she couldn't see.

Scrapper had noticed that humans were afraid of such devices, and he wouldn't have cared if it would not have made his job any harder. If it hurt itself further it would complicate completion of his orders. Thus, with experience garnered over the past deca-cycles, he hid the device with his servo until right by its neck and quickly, without any warning, jabbed the tiny point into the human to disperse the liquid.

Eleanor felt the stab of the enormous needle before she saw it. She could  _feel_ the liquid flowing into her, whatever it was, and she  _panicked_. Her fate was one that a year ago she would have deemed impossible - a human experiment at an alien's hand.  _You weren't worth it anymore to him._

_You are a broken toy, and now he has repurposed you. Your purpose is as he sees fit._

_**NO** _ _!_

She lost feeling in her fingers and toes first, the cold sensation climbing up her legs and arms until it froze her torso as well. Soon, all the woman could do was move her eyes. Even her head was immobile, unable to turn the slightest fraction, nor her face bear the slightest grimace.  _What?! N-no!_ her mind seized in panic,  _Come on!_ _ **Move**_ _!_

One of them laughed in their harsh, static-filled way. She couldn't see which it was, the grey metal beneath her constructing her vision, but she thought that she knew. The sound of receding footfalls took the laughter away, though it did nothing to lessen the almost painful humiliation and burning anger.

 _Here you are again,_ a dark piece of her whispered, so quiet she almost didn't hear it over the raccus of fear,  _There is nothing left to do but hope that nothing bad will happen. There will never be a way for you to escape their will._

She could practically  _hear_ the formation of the crack as it marred her mind. A sob died in her swollen throat.

Scrapper removed the scalpel from the tray offered by Hook and carefully, with an engineer's skill, sliced away each of the human's coverings to inspect the patchy flesh beneath. They came away easily, except for around its back. That he had to peel away, like the seal off of new implants.

As her clothes were removed she hissed in wide-eyed panic which soon turned to pain as they were ripped from the raw skin of her spine, tenfold the feeling of the removal of a stubborn bandage. The shredded muscles tingled as they were stretched.

Then, coolness. As part of the project to preserve Earth's labor force - the idiots on the ground were going through the slaves far too fast - Scrapper had developed a sealant to guard against human infections. Using tools normally reserved for circuitry repair, the Constructicon lowered the clear, rubbery covering to the raw lacerations.

A finger made sure that it was adhering properly, and then flipped the human over abruptly. If Eleanor's ruined vocal cords hadn't rendered her incapable, she would have shouted at the jolt sent from her ankle and arm. Something was stuck on her back, sucking the warmth from her - what were they doing?

As on its' back, there was more under-armor hemorrhages, most a sickly purple. There was nothing that could be done for those, neither for the injured voice box, and carefully he scanned down the female's form. A joint above its ped needed to be relocated and repaired, badly it seemed, as did a fracture in an upper limb. In comparison to its twin, it was both large and an odd color.

Taking two sets of tweezers from Hook, the designer took another sheet and set it, adhesive side up, on the berth beside the leg. Using one of them he gripped the strut and lifted it, paying no mind to the pathetic, guttural sounds streaming from the trapped human, lowering the inflamed joint onto the sheet just gentle enough to not lengthen his work.

All Eleanor could do was watch the ceiling, so very far above her, as the aliens continued to play  _Operation_ with her body. If she was capable, she would have snorted at the grim,  _terrible_ irony.

Then, a bright light blinded her. She shut her eyes in the pain, and at the same time they began pulling at her sensitive ankle. A weak whimper left her chest, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.  _This is it, isn't it?_

_Is this how it ends?_

Using the extra light, Scrapper moved the the tiny joint back into alignment. " _That appears correct,"_ Hook approved gratuitously.

With that and a miniscule shake of the helm, the joint and part of the surrounding strut and ped were wrapped in the protective sheet. A torch was taken from the tray, yet another tool for fine repairs, and used to harden the casing.

The process was repeated, though far more delicately, with the upper limb. Matching up the halves of such a tiny structure without ripping the flesh was more complex work than the Constructicon was accustomed to performing on a human; he was adapted to dissection, not surgery.

In a klik, the female was done and a complete report of its health written. Megatron had not wanted a ping to be sent for such an inferior matter, thus the organic remained, waiting for her Master to return. It was left to lie on the berth as the Constructicons went about their business, all of it more important than an injured human.

* * *

Eleanor's relief was short-lived. She was paralysed, prone, and nude in a strange place. After a time she had had the feeling that they were fixing her up in their alien way, hence why her ankle and arm were wrapped in what felt like casts and her back covered with the same rubbery skin. At least she hadn't been probed, but she still didn't understand.

 _Why?_ applied to so many things but fatigue, hunger, and thirst took the privilege of much deep thought away from her. Adrenaline had her prisoner, keeping her capable of processing solely her immediate surroundings.

What felt like hours passed as she was prone on the table with only faded alien chatter as company. Dryness didn't bother her anymore - she hadn't had anything to drink for at least a day and a half. She couldn't shiver, though she was frozen from the metal around her and the foreign "bandages" all over her. They were radiating cold, which was nice for the swelling in her arm and ankle but torture on her back and the rest of her.

The  _swish!_ of an automatic door opening signaled an arrival. Embarrassment made her flush as Megatron entered her field of vision, seemingly inspecting her. She couldn't cover herself from her captor's, her  _enemy's_ , cruel eyes; Eleanor couldn't even manage the slightest turn of the head to hide her face.

She did all that she could do, closing her eyes with helplessness and shame as she lay nude before her jailer. She wasn't going to be cut apart and tested, but was instead fixed and given back. Despite herself, her mind relaxed the tiniest fraction at this news.  _There is no purpose in fixing me only to ruin me spontaneously._

_R-right?_

When he entered, the Constructicons were not in sight. His mate lay where he had placed her, not stirring. For an endless instant he thought she was dead until he drew closer and could see her chest moving slowly. The colorful exterior that had kept her warm was gone, her pale exoskeleton her only covering. He had had a suspicion that the covers were removable - perhaps he would make her stay this way.

He liked it.

All over the femme's flesh were purple shapes, an intricate design that he thought curious.  _Why would she conceal those?_ Her protein strands lay in a mess behind her helm, once again filthy, some caked in her own Energon. Two odd bumps on her chassis rose and fell with her breath, slow and steady, dark tips perked and sharp, but she looked… far too thin. Maybe the covers had made her look more substantial, but he didn't believe that to be true.

He could not see her back, but a tiny ped and arm were wrapped up carefully with clear, blue material. For what purpose, he wasn't sure. Had he missed those injuries? Even if he had missed them, why were there only patches in place of a new, fresh exoskeleton?

" _Lord Megatron,_ " The tyrant looked up from her to watch Scrapper approach, then went back to inspecting the female. " _I have the report."_

" _It is completly repaired?"_ He feigned ignorance and indifference, accepting the datapad from the Constructicon leader to subspace it for later review.

" _All of the damage will repair itself."_ Megatron was using this human in a style of propaganda that Scrapper had not expected. What was the purpose of showing an  _undamaged_ "squishy"? The question entered and promptly exited, unentertained in his processor.

" _Very well."_ The Decepticon Lord did not seem pleased.

Scrapper mildly reminded the displeased ex-gladiator, " _The female is replaceable, if you wish for an uninjured specimen immediately."_

" _This human had a specific title, Scrapper, that renders it to… more effective use. Look closer."_ The Constructicon cast a unconcerned glance to his leader and then stared down at the human in question.

There wasn't much that could have scared her further, as she was already  _terrified_ , but it felt as though a thousand ants were crawling up her spine as the two enormous aliens silenced and levelled their unwavering, red gazes at her. She was bacteria under a microscope - pinned and bare for all to see.

" _The Armenian President,"_ Scrapper paused then asked for affirmation, " _yes?"_

" _The_ _ **American**_ _President. Now you understand."_ Abruptly, giving Eleanor no warning whatsoever, the grey warmonger snatched her up to enclose her torso in a fist. Her limbs dangled uselessly, form lax.  _Odd. She usually squirms._

Under his mask, Scrapper was smirking. " _Indeed I do."_  The plan, like the one that had won them the war, was flawless.

" _Why isn't it moving?"_ Megatron deftly lifted the uninjured, slack arm (though ever so careful not to pull on the delicate appendage) and dropped it, the limb making a dull  _slap!_ against the black armor of his servo.  _It's alright, sweetling. Shhh._

 _Oh my God Megatron's holding me._ She remembered vividly when he had "felt her up" on the couch, the strong hands that gave no illusions of choice or escape. Then she had been able to move, to at least  _ **try**_  to fight. Now she was a naked rag doll in his hand, unable to speak or even lift a finger, a  _literal_ toy to his whims.  _Oh my God Megatron's holding me._ He could touch her, violate her,  _ **play**_  with her in any way he pleased, and she had no say.

The blood drained from her face.  _Oh my God he's holding me!_ Her arm stung when he dropped it, likely causing yet another bruise, but she barely noticed in light of her new terror.

" _It has been paralysed for the procedure. The effect should wear off within the next cycle."_

" _Excellent. You may return to your work."_

Scrapper dipped his helm slightly, " _All hail Megatron."_

Once he entered the hall and the door had shut behind him, Megatron shifted his grip so that she was nestled in his palm instead of constrained in a closed fist. She was watching him with wide, wet optics, her frame splayed across his servo. Careful to support her helm, which seemed to be in an odd position, he continued the walk towards Control.

Within the medbay Long Haul, who had merely glanced at the human before returning to his duties, turned to Mixmaster and posed, " _100 Shanix that it doesn't make it through the mega-cycle."_

Eleanor, oblivious to the bets lightly placed on her life or death, thought  _Why isn't he doing anything?_ Her heart pounded against her ribcage, pumping blood faster even as she grew pale.

Megatron wanted Soundwave to look at her, to see the evidence of his cassettes' offenses. The tapedeck needed to understand the extent of her injuries so that he understood the reasons for what he was about to do. At first he believed it to be accidental movement, but soon enough the armorless femme had curled up in his servo, shivering.

So she needed those coverings for  _warmth_. At his spark's urging he cupped the other servo over her to provide her with heat and ignored the "hails" given by his jubilant officers and troops in passing. Never had the Decepticons' morale been so high. They were chipper, still riding on the highs of victory, altogether too busy to notice that he was holding something. Before now, his elation had not reached such a peak either.

The heat helped her calm herself down a little - actually it made her very sleepy - but she still didn't know where she was being taken or where she had been. The human President was running on adrenaline and though she was glad to have movement back, there was still much to fear.  _Too_  much. Not much time had passed between when Megatron had brought her to those other robots.  _Just exactly where am I? He couldn't have traveled_ _ **that**_ _fast, right? It was like we were in the city and then… here._

Soundwave was purposefully facing the door when Megatron entered, the mech backlit by the light of the surveillance console. His helm dip was far deeper than Scrapper's and held far longer. The two mechs were alone; cassettes and assistants absent.

" _My Lord, your presence was not expected."_ Soundwave was not speaking of literal matters, but of his Master's reasoning - the lieutenant always, as the nature of his duties demanded, knew of his Commander's locale.

" _But it has been necessitated."_

Eleanor gasped, vocal cords stinging, as the enormous hands parted, curling up to hide her nakedness though the room they were in appeared to be dark - with the exception of a white light from a source unseen and two red gazes far above. Different, ingrained fears conflicted in her, but both had the same effect on her muscles.

No. Not  _that_ one again.

" _Look at her."_ A careful finger manipulated his mate so that her back was visible to his lieutenant. She froze as it brushed roughly against a breast, praying that it was an accident. " _Do you see those?"_

Soundwave observed the deep slashes in the female's skin, recognizing them immediately to be about the size of Ravage's claws. Something was wrong with a bone junction above her ped, the flesh purple as to almost be black. An arm was wrapped up in the same material, cocked and held close to her torso.

It wasn't clear which, but one of the three cassettes had done that to her ped and her arm, possibly all of them. Having spent longer on Earth than Megatron, he knew more about the planet's (formerly) dominant species. The purple shapes all over her legs and chassis were not meager displays, but signs of injury.

The reason Megatron had chosen this human would not have been unfounded. He was going to mate with a human for a reason and although Soundwave didn't understand which, it was not his place to question Lord Megatron - the same one that had led them to a Decepticon victory. He was ashamed that his Master's choice had been disfigured by his own cassettes, at the same time thankful that the damage was temporary.

" _They will apologize."_ Soundwave opened his compartment, trying to please the tyrant and remove the hard stare directed at himself.

" _They will apologize, but later."_ The chest compartment shut with a deafening  _click!_ in the silence of the room. Megatron's lip components pressed into an even thinner line, optics narrowing the slightest fraction. " _You know what must be done."_

A chill raced through his struts, fear flashing across the Communication Officer's field for an instant before it was retracted. They could not go unpunished and he and his cassettes had always known what would happen if they strayed from the Decepticon path, but never had they believed a mistake on their part would come to  _this_. Only once, long ago, had they needed this kind of reprimanding, but the grim results were ingrained vividly in his processor.

" _They will be submitted for punishment."_ Despite the fear for his symbiotes, Soundwave's curiosity piqued. Such offenses usually resulted in penalty at the servo of Megatron himself; the gruesome enforcers were almost the things of myth, hardly seen and mostly heard of - if a mech would dare mention them. They were utilized for the most treasonous, the traitors.

Megatron made no reply, turning on his heel and leaving the way he had come, disappointed just as Soundwave was. Eleanor, confused, caught a glimpse of the robot as they were leaving and the charcoal hand covered her again. Neither his eyes nor his mouth were visible, but body language was hardwired into a human brain and what his immense figure told her baffled her further. What had been said that made him  _sad_?

The familiar glide of a finger down her back turned her attention away from the impossible question. She was pushed up against the purple symbol yet again, light seeping in between the black hand and the metal of his chest. It would flash in and out, similar to the way streetlights would advance and recede in a moving car.

They were in a hallway, not that that mattered much. The President wanted water and food like she never had before, craved to consume something so that the hunger would stop consuming  _her_.

* * *

It seemed forever had passed, the  _swish!_ of automatic doors occurring several times before, at last, Megatron's swaying strides stopped. Eleanor jolted out of near-sleep with a rasped whine, blinking. There was a long  _beeeep!_ and then a heavy  _swish!_

"Calm down,  _sweetspark,"_ he cooed, the privacy of his quarters allowing him the luxury. "No more need for shivering."

The captive looked at her hands, observing for herself.  _Huh._

The hand opened and she was withdrawn from the chest, allowing her a view of the space they now occupied as Megatron began to walk again. Rectangular with a curve along the opposite wall, the cavernous space was filled with furnishings of Megatron's size. A pair of structures that suspiciously resembled a desk and office chair were pushed up against the right wall, a black screen mounted on another desk to the left of them. On either side of the door they had just entered, two massive shelving units held neatly stacked silver rectangles.

Eleanor blinked as she turned her helm side to side, taking in her new surroundings in a way that appeared cute to his enamored optics. She seemed…  _excited_. Good.

If the tyrant had looked closer he would have seen the speed in which her tiny grey pools flickered around the room, the fact that they never settled in one place for more than an astrosecond. His mate wasn't curious as he thought, but was instead looking for a threat, an invisible danger…

A panther ready to spring and skin her back again. But alas, Megatron was ignorant of her body language and did not hear its silent cries.

An expansive flat table ran parallel to the curved wall, its purpose escaping her. Rather, all of her curiosity awakened as the thirst and hunger and terror were, for a moment, nonexistent.

The white of the moon to the left, a blue and green marble to the right. She unconsciously leaned forward, head turned to the side in wonder, lips parted in awe. She had seen plenty of pictures from satellite feed and astronauts, but a camera could never capture the absolute magnificence of the scene out the massive windows.

_I'm in space…_

Then, the momentary beauty withered away like a rose past its prime.  _I-I'm in space!_ Again her heart picked up speed, yet more adrenaline released into her blood.  _What does that_ _ **mean**_ _?!_

The back of her neck prickled, hairs reacting to something she couldn't directly sense. Why bring her  _here_? Her muscles clenched and unclenched in a simultaneous wave down her body, the thousandth of that day.

_I… I can't escape now, can I?_

All of this happened in an instant. Then, Megatron turned away and towards the desk she had written off so easily. Two glass cubes, larger than his hand and far taller than she, had been set down, each of them missing a top. One was empty, the other filled halfway with blankets and pillows in a disorganized mess of both color and arrangement. Beside them were metal-sided cubes, the contents not observable. She was set down on the surface of the desk, evidently encouraged to look at them.

_What on Earth…?_

"What do you think, little one? You've been rather quiet." Eleanor hadn't spoken at all yet, which was quite unlike her. All she had done was make the odd noise, but his lovely had yet to utter a word. She jumped, startled at his inquiry, but did not answer him. The woman didn't know  _how_.

To his captive, the question was rhetorical and teasing, derogatory in nature. Hungry, thirsty, cold, naked, and hurt on very little sleep through the stressful events of the past several hours had put her at her wits end. Speaking to her directly instead of over her in another tongue was somehow worse - she could have pretended before this, but with the insult Eleanor snapped. She didn't think, but reacted, a behaviour unlike a prestigious President - unlike  _her_.

"Jt kl e" were the only letters she could pronounce, her vocal cords refusing to give the others life. Megatron was taken aback, running a check on his audials first to make sure that there wasn't a short. The giant's red eyes widened before narrowing, insisting, "Repeat yourself."

It hurt worse the second time, furthering the despair that she already felt. "Jt kl e. Cr e lk bg." Her voice rasped over the words, but he listened carefully and was able to make out:

_Just kill me. Crush me like a bug._

Eleanor winced and blinked away a tear at the agonizing dryness in her throat. The hand of the uninjured arm came up to cup it, massaging gently. She shivered, cold and stressed.

Equally concerned with both the quality and content of her voice, he seated himself in the chair and unsubspaced the datapad given to him by Scrapper. Eleanor wasn't even watching, still batting her eyes to keep the tears of misery and pain away.  _Why must this go on?_  Her lungs hitched in a silent sob.

The horrible day he had destroyed New York, her captivity comfortable despite his demonstrated cruelty, the others that always tried and sometimes succeeded at hurting her, the presence of those eaten corpses in the park, the way she had been held beneath the paws of a panther as a toy mouse, her ankle and arm and pride broken, whatever had become of her loyal bodyguard and friend…

 _Wilson._ She sniffed, irritating her throat.

This was it for her. She couldn't bear another beating to her body or her pride - since they were inevitable and since she was replaceable, why not give in? Rescue never came, in fact it might never have even made it across the park. They were dead - why did she have to remain living as a pet, an animal, to a massive alien with unclear and probably  _blue_ motives?

_Inflammation within vocal folds, likely caused by protracted strenuous use. Recommendation: Desist from speech. Duration: One mega-cycle until normalized._

His optic ridges lowered with rage and a degree of pity. Megatron pictured her with the three cassettes, defenceless to their misguided whims, screaming endlessly for help. He wondered if she had called for  _him_ only for her mate to be absent, unable to hear her pleas and arrive quickly to protect her. That tiny vocalizer had been  _ruined_ by all that crying and begging, but that did not explain the meaning of her words.

The thought of Circuitsia asking him to terminate her chilled his spark - what was so horrible that Eleanor, Circuitsia reincarnated, was  _begging_ for this? Just how  _deeply_ was his mate hurt?

Any doubts about the punishment of the cassettes were removed like Autobots in the presence of Sixshot. Furious and protective, he commed his chief enforcer without hesitation.

" _Be sure that they can work within the mega-cycle."_ was his only stipulation.  _If only your cassettes were more like you, Soundwave. But I have no choice._

Eleanor wasn't watching him anymore, having curled up with her back to him, finding that much of her mobility had returned and that small jolts no longer drew agony from her injuries. It was clear that he wasn't going to follow through, and she didn't know what to think of it.

Megatron watched the small form quiver in a ball, and prolonged a ventilation, still angry. He returned to the datapad, picking it up from where he had set it beside her. The human didn't move.

_Comminuted fracturing in lateral and medial malleolus. Duration: At least two deca-cycles. Recommendation: Desist from movement._

_Oblique fracture in humerus. Duration: Half a stellar-cycle. Recommendation: Desist from movement._

The medical terminology was easy to find, although the answers he received were far from satisfactory. Still, the warlord had not completed the report. Under  _Other Notes_ he read that the ignorant symbiotes were not the only ones to blame for her poor state.

_Deficiency in essential vitamins and macronutrients. Recommendation: Utilize slave feed._

His optics narrowed in disappointment - no wonder she wasn't feeling well. The fuel he had been bringing her wasn't fulfilling her needs increasingly complicated needs. Now, in order to help her heal, he had to give her fuel meant for  _slaves_ , not a Queen. However, no slave deaths were reported to be caused by the food - typically it was the strain incurred by the life of a slave.  _Regardless, what was her reason for her failure to request such essential tems?_

_Omnipresent contusions evident under epidermis. No recommendation._

Those purple patterns were injuries as well, not an expression of intricate beauty as he thought.

_Deficiency in food and water, possibly terminal. Recommendation: Provide nourishment within one solar cycle._

_They starved her._ Primus, that had never occurred to him. A low gurgle came from his curled up mate, the human's frame clenching in response to the sound. In a twisted way, it sounded similar to an empty tank.

Eleanor, more scared than curious about what he was doing so quietly, peeked up. Her stomach growled, the emptiness painful, and her throat still tingled from her attempt at speech. EM fields were the unspoken language that he was fluent in - human body language, specifically that of their eyes, was something he had had to gradually learn. This time, however, Megatron easily read the clear emotions in his lovely's optics.

She was hungry because of the cassettes, unable to ask for some fuel to fill her tiny little belly because of the cassettes. She was lacking in her water because of the cassettes, unclean because of the cassettes…

Rage made his plating shake. Fire erupted from the enormous red eyes and she cringed, her breath hitching. She moved so that she was facing him, a single hand supporting her upper body, ready to crawl backward if she needed to.

His servo clenched, sending fractures across the screen of the datapad. He was ready to cancel the order and go to Soundwave in that moment, deprive the cruel, poor excuses of symbiotes of their fuel, torture them as his mate had been tortured and save Tarn the trouble.

A sound from the desk drew his attention, optics refocusing on its source. His mate was staring up at him, wide-eyed, tiny chest heaving as she tried to distance herself, skin squeaking against the metal surface of his desk. Her leg dragged, now as useless as a defective cog, and only one arm was capable of pulling and supporting her in her desperate struggle. It made a pitiful picture - he recalled the swiftness of how she used to run away and hide. She was crippled without her leg, unable to get away, helplessness etched in her flesh.

Eleanor, for once, would have agreed with him.  _I am a toy, there will never be a way for me to escape his will._

A black hand crashed behind her, barely missing her fingers in the middle of a drag. She yelped fearfully, tiny optics flashing in a panic to find another escape. Suddenly, in the face of death, death was no longer appealing. The urge to live came from a hidden, deep, instinctive crevice. Adrenaline forced her to search for a way, though she had longed for death only moments before.

"Hush, my little one." Megatron controlled himself, now remembering the present instead of the past. The cassettes could be dealt with later, but how to address his mate? How would he lessen her fear?

Tenderly he picked her up, cradling her in a servo and rocking. Once or twice he had seen a Carrier do that to calm a frightened sparkling. It worked with his mate too, although it took a few slow passes of his finger to sufficiently soothe his lovely. "You are in need of fuel, yes?"

Eleanor's mind ordered her to nod and so she did, though she had not grasped his meaning. "Then I shall get you some."  _At least he isn't angry anymore. It must not have been my fault._

_Regardless, he could have killed you on accident. Not that that isn't what you just_ _**asked** _ _for - he probably couldn't make it out._

The water from the  _Nemesis_ should be sufficient for her to drink - the filtration system was far too comprehensive, to his knowledge, to allow anything that would harm her. Without any other container to fill, he snatched up the cube meant to be her bathing container and entered his personal washracks to fetch her some water.

To his pleasure, she was watching as he showed her yet another space, setting her down on the counter while filling her dish in a sink meant for scrubbing armor. She was limp and obedient when Megatron scooped her up again to carry her back out, happy that she wasn't fighting him anymore.

They went back to the desk, her mind blank, and she was set down beside the enormous cube of water and nudged towards it, a single finger pushing her as easily as the wind would a grain of sand.

Unable and unwilling to fight his strength, she let herself be pushed. A finger the size of a tree trunk splashed the liquid in the cube, as if trying to entice her. "Drink."

The dryness in her mouth intensified at the splashing and her good arm started to pull her towards it, her consciousness merely along for the ride. There was no way she could ever hope to climb it - even without broken bones and standing, it looked as if it would be another several feet above her head.

Once she was close enough to the cube, he pinched her sides tenderly and lifted her, holding her above the water but still within reach of it.

Giving no thought to the possible toxicity of the water - or if it was even  _water_ to begin with - she disregarded her humiliating position and lowered desperate lips to the liquid. Her tongue and inside of her mouth absorbed the water like soil in a dry land, guilty thoughts given to her unladylike slurping falling by the wayside. A resulting continuous stream of liquid down her throat wasn't broken for a good twenty seconds, desperation and thirst making her determined to take in as much water as possible until she had to stop for air.

Tiny slurping sounds came from his mate as she drank from the surface of the mildly warm water, optics closing in bliss. Only once did she stop to respire, and then she returned to her frenzied gulping.

Eleanor sighed once her thirst was quenched, tongue licking lips that no longer resembled tree bark as she raised her head from the liquid. Her stomach did not feel like a void anymore. A missed drop ran down from her chin to her neck, rejoining the pool below before a hand could brush it away.

Megatron returned her to the desk and stood. The food he had managed to bring was not suitable - he would dispose of it later. He had meetings to attend to and reports to read. "Only a moment,  _sweetspark_. Rest, and when I return I will bathe and feed you." As an afterthought he grabbed a covering from her intended nest to lay in front of her - he didn't want her to dirty the rest of her bedding before she was cleaned, but she still had to keep warm without him.

She didn't react, too tired to argue or wonder what the stray alien syllable had meant. Eleanor watched as he left, tension leaving her body as a result and the lights dimmed. Her exhaustion caught up with her and she curled up, right where she was, with the pink, childish blanket, to fall into shallow, fear-filled slumber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I will try to update every month - the next few months will be exceptionally busy, with summer looking good for me to pump some more stuff out. Please tell me what you thought of this chapter! I am trying to work on my sentence structure a little, as well as sharpen up Eleanor's fear - which will soon start to ebb. Any thoughts on this specifically? Also - I'm attempting to write the Decepticons as cold, especially Megatron when he is in the presence of his followers. Any feedback would be much appreciated!


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanoklik - about 1 second
> 
> Cycle - 1 hour 15 minutes
> 
> *Breem - 8.3 minutes
> 
> Astrosecond - 0.498 seconds
> 
> Mega-cycle - 93 hours (almost 4 days)
> 
> Deca-cycle - 3 weeks
> 
> Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
> 
> Solar cycle - 1 day

It had been a sound more hair-raising than nails on a chalkboard. Perhaps even more worrisome was how long it had continued, and how often he heard it.

Agent Ben Wilson knew that there wasn't anyone else in the abandoned metropolis. During the day he would sometimes hear pigeons flocking, sometimes the occasional sound of a demolished building finally surrendering to gravity. Most often he would hear colossal footsteps that never approached his hijacked apartment, but the apartment of his charge.

Those set his teeth on edge, sure, but the inhuman scream that had come from the park… He wondered if it was even human at all, maybe it was steel creaking in one of the dilapidated skyscrapers.

Then he heard it again, and again, and again. When it finally did stop, it continued to echo in his brain, so lifelike he wondered if it was happening again. More significantly, his heart stopped in the knowledge that it could  _only_ be Eleanor.

It was his duty to protect her that had propelled him against his robotic guards more than anything prior, to get out and find her. It was his job to be injured while she remained unscathed, to know where she was, to keep her safe from the arms of Death himself. No matter how he had craned his neck to see past the corner of the damned building, no matter how he had strained his ears, there was nothing.

It was knowing and not knowing that drove him insane, that nailed home how useless he had become as a guard. He thought of her eyes, the way they used to turn to Megatron and then, perhaps unconsciously, to himself. Her helplessness evoked his own, for there was nothing he could ever do to save her.

Even if he had known where she was, what was happening to her, how to help her, he never would have the ability to defeat her aggressors. He was ready and able, yet chained and bound. Even with all that Wilson had witnessed Megatron doing to her, with all the knowledge of the giant's lewd intentions, the screams were his greatest torment, the greatest symbol of how he had failed.

* * *

" _Then increase the quota."_ Megatron ordered sternly into his comm, tapping in the code to his quarters with sufficient force to shatter a weaker screen. " _I expect to see greater inventory from your slaves upon the next meeting. That is all Barricade."_

She shot up, instantly alert, at the booming sounds of his arrival - echo oddly absent in the metal room. Spontaneously his tone changed, the ghost of a smile crossing his alien metal lips, as he switched to English. "Did you rest well, Eleanor?"

An icy finger ran up her spine, stroking upwards the hairs on the back of her neck. She didn't like him referring to her by her first name; rarely did anyone use it, and it was especially unsettling to see her enemy use it with a  _smirk,_ and with a suddenly warm tone. She made a conscious decision to tighten her hold on the blanket, her only covering.

Before she was ready he had crossed the room to stand in front of her. The desk was at his waist level, a black beltlike band consuming the entirety of her vision. She had to crane her neck to look up at him - quite the different experience from looking down. The metal-covered body easily cast a shadow in the twilight of the room, menacing red eyes making the exhausted woman pale though this was not the first time he had acted so downright  _ **intimidating**_.

With a blanch she remembered what had taken place before her poor excuse for a doze.  _I actually_ _ **ASKED**_ _him to_ _ **KILL**_ _me._

 _Why would I_ _ **do**_ _that?_ Had she  _ **really**_ wanted to throw her one life away like  _that_?

A hand grabbed her before she saw it, whisking her up to the expansive face of its owner at a speed far greater than she was ready for. She squealed hoarsely, her empty stomach queasy. A corner of his mouth jerked upwards amusedly, her skin growing exponentially colder at the expression, resembling that of a cruel child in the midst of pulling apart a helpless insect.

 _Cute,_ he purred mentally at her minute squeal. Whatever fear she had been expressing wasn't present anymore, all of her tissues lax in his servo.  _Excellent_. His mind quickly completed the turn from Decepticon matters to those of his mate.

Ever since he had washed her improperly the first time, Megatron had spent time scouring their internet to be sure that the inevitable next time would not go the same. He had learned that the water should be warm and clean, that special chemicals could be used to wash and then silken the fine protein growth. This was only done to the strands growing from her helm, not anywhere else.

The rest of her frame would be washed with yet another chemical in a preferred scent. After reading this, he was sure to choose the unscented variety - Megatron did not wish to mask his lovely's delectable smell, unless with his own.

She was given no explanation as the cube with the now-cold water was also taken up and they returned to the other room through a door by the other desk. Eleanor didn't expect one, but was nonetheless alert.  _I wish I had slept better. He probably thought that that was enough rest for me._

Once the old Energon cube was emptied and re-filled with warm water Megatron took a simple scan of it, using his index, to check the temperature. He didn't want to accidentally boil his mate. She was watching his other servo in a way he interpreted as curious, which pleased him.

"There, all ready." Eleanor leaned back against his chest to support herself, good hand splayed over the purple symbol, as his swaying -  _eager?_  - strides took them out once again.  _Ready for_ _ **what**_ _?_

 _ **Oh no**_ _,_ her heart nearly stopped at the memory of what his last words had been.  _N-not again._ She didn't think that she could survive being held in such cold water again, unable to breathe, praying that the enormous alien scrubbing her head wouldn't crush it.

Before she was ready the pool of water was set down on the desk, followed quickly by herself. While she was paralyzed with horror at what was to come, Megatron withdrew the supplies necessary from one of the containers. She didn't see them, preoccupied with finding an escape.

Fingers pinched around her abdomen before shifting to cup her in a palm. The blanket was tugged out of her weak hold.  _Nonononono_. Far from ready to allow an alien to  _bathe_ her, her eyes and movements were frantic as they tried to find a nonexistent getaway. "It's alright," the deep voice boomed nonchalantly, ignorantly, "the water is warm this time."

Without any other option, she squeezed her eyes shut in terror.  _Please._

Warm water, after a week of nothing but freezing, gnawing cold, was a sensation she never thought she would have again. Against her will a contented sigh left her, a minute fraction of fear going with it.

Megatron was careful not to submerge her helm so quickly as he had the last time, gradually lowering his servo and submitting more of her to the warm liquid. Encouraged that she was relaxed, he used his thumb to gently guide her helm under the liquid and wet her "hair." The cloth in his other servo was discarded in the small waste chute to the right of the workspace - there was no need to keep dirty items. She had others in her nest.

The original bottles of human cleanser had been far too miniscule for him to manipulate, and after fetching them he had painstakingly shattered each of them, container by container, to partially fill a few old bottles that had once held polish for his canon. Though still small in his servos, they was more easily handled.

Eleanor eyed the enormous steel cylinder he was opening with his other hand, blinking water out of her eyes. He held it over her, placing a dollop of an unknown substance onto her head with extreme care.

Her neck was stiff, which only made it hurt more when he started to rub the stuff into her hair. Instinctively she shut her eyes hoping that, since there wasn't a burning sensation, it wasn't toxic. She was glad that she did - the quantity of it made suds run down her face and over her eyes.

He made sure that all of her hair was covered before he dunked her under again, scrubbing to remove the first cleanser from her tiny helm. Eleanor was tense, but he took no note - in the future she would learn.

Just when she thought her lungs were going to explode he removed his thumb, letting her surface for air. Since her body was being held belly-down just under the surface of the water, she had to crane her neck upwards to get oxygen.

Then, the process was repeated, her hair lathered again with the same rough tenderness.  _What is he doing?_ This time, however, she was flipped onto her back after her head was rinsed and risen above the water into the cold.

Then she saw the rag. Her eyes and mouth made the same O shape, terror making her try to slide out of his open grasp. Try, but only to meet the same end: failure. His thumb came down across her chest, firm and on the verge of crushing. She was pinned and helpless all over again.

 _But when_ _ **aren't**_   _you?_ A nondescript voice posed,  _Whether it's under his hand or under his gaze, you are always_ _ **pinned**_ _. Whether you are injured or uninjured, you are always_ _ **helpless**_ _._ This was it now, wasn't it?

The rag continued to get closer, the hand holding it efficiently wetting it. It was removed, but her eyes didn't notice.

She was busy making a choice.

Megatron had been concerned that she would get scared at this part. She had made it clear that she didn't like being touched when he had wanted to cuddle with her. His lovely should not feel the need to be frightened anymore - for the rest of eternity she would be safe. He had to teach Circuitsia -  _Eleanor_  - to like her baths the way she had so long ago. He approached slowly with the polishing cloth, giving her a chance to see that it wasn't concealing a threat.

After her initial squirming, there was no fighting. She was even relaxed under his touch as he guided the cleanser over her belly, careful not to put pressure on her bruises. Her eyes were closed, frame still, as if she was liking it. "That's not so bad now, is it?" Megatron murmured. She twitched when he parted her delicate legs to tenderly wash between them, a little sound of protest coming from her intake. He was applying the same pressure as he had to her middle, but the sound was new.

 _Sensitive there, hmm?_ He almost purred.

"Shhh." Immediately the whine cut off. She didn't fight him, Eleanor allowing him to do as he pleased for, yes, a fear of being crushed…

But more out of a sense of unavoidable fate.

Fearful of his indisputable dominance over her, she bit her lip to keep from crying out as her chest was washed, sensitive nipples subjected to harsh cloth. She sensed rather than saw him rolling her over to wash her back, where he inspected the harsh injuries underneath the clear patch.  _They will heal soon,_ he mused as his rag scrubbed the back of each leg, thin and fragile as wires.

Megatron never noticed the tears as he rinsed her frame with water, admiring how Eleanor glistened with a clean glow. Water dripped out of his hand in small streams when he removed her from the cube of now-clouded liquid to set her in another polishing cloth, the softest he had. As much as he wasn't sure about her needs anymore, he was positive that humans liked soft things.

From there he took the cloth, and her with it, into his servos to rub her dry. Her compliance emboldened him, and he learned the harsh way to be careful with her injured limbs - her eyes squeezed tight in pain and a guttural, unnatural sound came from her.  _Her vocalizer._

His patting made her dizzy, blackness coming in waves over her vision and disorienting her. She was turned over and over again, and when he roughly grabbed her arm to run the likewise coarse cloth over it, her chest produced a scream that her vocal chords couldn't carry. Her eyes shut themselves of their own accord.

"It's all right," was the unconcerned reply of that bass tone.  _He doesn't care. Just like the rest of his kind._

The gladiator kept the tiny human in the cloth and set her on the desk. From his subspace came the container he had collected from the largest of the slave centers after the end of his last meeting. Mass-produced slave food.

Should he allow her to take as she needed? His gaze slanted down to her, making Eleanor curl her injured - and still throbbing - arm into her further, the healthy arm crossing over it and legs coming up. She looked incredibly distrustful, wet hair sticking to the face around wide grey eyes.

He needed a way to gain her trust. Would feeding her by servo make her more frightened? Or would it, perhaps, teach her that he was nothing to fear? Megatron held the gaze of those grey eyes, unmoving though the rest of her quivered, likely growing cold.

Again reaching into his subspace, he took up tiny Energon cubes - meant to be refilled in the refineries, but now to be his mate's "dishes." They were difficult to manipulate in-between his large fingers, but he managed to set them down on the desk beside her while keeping one.

 _It would be best to allow her to eat on her own._  Laserbeak's surveillance showed him that, after his visits, she only ingested fuel several cycles after he had gone. If he interrupted her in the middle of a ration, she never continued to eat in his presence (no matter how he tried to entice her to do so) and never went back to her food. He would not tolerate excessive allowances of her quirks - she would have to adapt to his way of life soon, and Megatron was not one to entertain any organic cultural practices.

Eleanor's mind was blank as miniature copies of the cubes behind her were set down before her, Megatron still holding one of them - ridiculously tiny, pinched between two fingers - to take something out of the container he was holding.

The cube was placed in front of her, filled to the brim with a brown mush that resembled mud from the bank of the Amazon mixed with half-composted vegetables (she assumed). "Eat."

Her neck snapped back up to look at his unforgiving, enormous face. She eyed the massive black hands, so capable of crushing her, resting innocently on the desktop to either side of her.  _Like sleeping panthers._

Spurred by memory and hunger she obediently scooted forward, tangled wet hair dripping and sticking to her skin, taking up the cube with her free hand and putting it in her lap. He made a pleased sound and the looming hands retreated.

Eleanor shakily dipped her finger into it and sampled it, the bitter taste and dirtlike texture becoming increasingly trivial with each passing second. The empty void that was her stomach and the primitive instincts that had taken leadership in her brain forced her to shovel it in. She didn't even notice when he ran a gentle finger down her back and cooed, happy to see her eating more than a few bites.

Once all of it had been scraped from the sides of the cube, her tongue swiped her lips and servo and only then she seemed to remember him by the sudden stiffness in her limbs.

Enchanted by the interesting sight that was her little pink glossa he rumbled and plucked her up, dirty cube forgotten, to settle her in a palm. Expressive eyes voiced an inquiry, which he answered promptly. "Your protein strands need to be groomed, little one."

Thus, a lax and incredulous Eleanor was submitted to the brush pinched between the fingertips of an inexperienced warlord. He made a sound like a hum or a coo as he combed - whichever it was, it was unsettling. A whimper emerged from her throat, unnoticed, as the bristles passed over the place where a patch of hair had been scalped from her head.

Megatron, however, did notice the raw flesh that stood out amidst her shimmering brown fur, and the gears of his jaw jammed.  _Your hair as well. What have they not taken from you, my delicate creature?_

Once he was satisfied with her (mostly) knot-free hair, Megatron took the cube meant to be her nest and upended it, all of the contents spilling out onto the desk. After placing her on top of the small mountain of blankets and pillows, he took the pile up in his servos and carried her to his berth.

Even if her eyes had held fear, she was not acting in any way that she normally did when terrified.  _Regardless, it is time that she learned to share a berth._ With that brusque thought, the paradox that was her demeanor was disregarded.

"?" A soft, strange sound keened from his mate as she was placed down. She cast her gaze about her new surroundings, taking in the berth with confusion in her eyes.

"It is almost time to recharge,  _sweetspark._ " He answered. Now lacking confidence in his knowledge of humans, he posed gently as he could, "Is there anything else that you need now? Perhaps some water?"  _What else could she be needing now that I have yet to give her?_ , he thought as he cast about in his mind for any details he had overlooked.

She nodded blankly. Her slumped posture was the same he had seen her do before a night cycle on Earth - she was growing tired. She even held a piece of fabric in her tiny servo, clutched to her chest.  _Cute._

When he returned with a filled - and sloshing - cube of water, her back was to him and she was looking up at his vidscreens, taking in the sight of what she recognized as her home planet.  _Good. Circuitsia still likes them._  Even if it was merely a recording, her intrigue was evident. He had never seen a creature so fascinated with space - but Megatron did not have the habit of interacting often with backwards, primitive organics.

She had to hold the cube with only one hand, just barely able to keep from dropping it. She drank greedily, aware that this privilege could be taken away at any time. When she was done, he noted that the servo she had used to eat was washed in the remaining water.  _She prefers cleanliness. Curious, given the state I have found her in twice before._

Unfortunately, her body gave her one last need that could not be ignored. Megatron was pulled from his musings about her shy behaviour when she keened the sound again, this time in a slightly different tone.

"Something else?" He asked, trying to think of what she could need. He had taken care to bathe her, feed her, preen her, and give her water and nesting material. There was a vital piece he was missing…

Oh. "Come," was said, though Eleanor was simply plucked up without a choice and taken away from the blankets and strange table. "I have prepared for that."

Eleanor having tried and failed to walk with only one leg, accepted the help of his fingers in guiding her into the strange alien structure on the counter of what she had surmised to be a bathroom. Minutes were spent trying to surmise the workings of the alien machine, minutes spent in the fear that he might decide to observe her.

But no violation of precious privacy came, and still minutes later she was back in the blankets, pressure in her lower abdomen gone, as Megatron went about finalizing preparations for this "recharge." Lights were shut off, throwing the room into darkness with only faint light from the windows. She clutched her blankets around her, trying to both hide her nakedness and trap in the heat. Her head rolled from side to side, trying to alleviate the soreness caused by his rough, tugging brush.

Megatron cast a glance at her over his shoulder, smirking at how she ruffled through the bedding and gathered more fabric around her, adjusting her nest. Though his quarters were far from the outer walls of the  _Nemesis_ , he was sure that the air was colder than comfortable for her. Temperature was only kept from being far too warm or far too cold - Cybertronians were more tolerant than humans.  _I'll make you warm, sweetspark._

Eleanor, having fished out a few pillows to busy her hand, turned her nervous gaze to Megatron just in time to see his massive gun - that was what she assumed it was - removed from his arm. He held it with only one hand, the massive black cylinder, as if it weighed nothing. She averted her eyes quickly when his snapped to her. Even to his untrained optics, Megatron saw that she was still shaken by her experience with the cassettes. Setting his cannon where it would be within easy reach of his recharging frame, he picked her up, nest and all, and settled himself down on the berth.

Eleanor braced herself as well as she could with her one arm and leg while the black hand set her on the familiar purple symbol. In the din, the red eyes glowed all the brighter. It was as if Medusa herself had stared at Eleanor and turned her to stone, such was the effect Megatron had on her.

A digit as long as she was tall stroked down her bare back, the chill startling her and breaking the spell on her muscles. Immediately subconscious, she clutched the blankets higher to cover her breasts better. Even if he was an alien, she didn't like the scrutiny she was being submitted to.  _Why is he looking at me like that?_

"Time to recharge, little one. Relax,  _sweetspark_." An insistent, metal finger forced her down onto her front, pushing her face first into her pillows. That same sound left her, panicked and scared. Immediately he released her head, running a light touch down her back. It ghosted over the bandage and the injuries beneath it, the softest stroke he had ever made.

"Calm." Eleanor repositioned herself, all too aware of the hand hovering over her, like a black spider above its prey.  _If he wants to make me sleep here, I might as well be comfortable._

_If I couldn't fight Rumble and Frenzy, I can't fight_ _**him** _ _._

"Now recharge." He sounded impatient and irritable and she shut her eyes obediently, not wanting to try him - or another robot - ever again. Her arm, ankle, and back strongly throbbed with her hard-learned lesson. A sob in her throat was swiftly aborted with a hard swallow.

" _I don't think he's going to hurt you, at least not physically."_ Wilson's opinion had to matter for something, right? Her belly was full and the blankets around her made her warmer than she had been in a month. She reminded herself of Wilson's words, letting loose a shaky exhalation, " _I don't think he's going to hurt you, at least not physically."_

Megatron smiled softly and reclined back, tenderly setting a servo over her to keep her in place and heat her up. Starscream, his most frequent partner, never stayed in his berth - the interface kept the Seeker in line and released the pent-up lust of his leader, but served no additional purpose. He had forgotten what it was to share his berth with another, with his  _mate_.

_I'm not letting you go again, little one._

When the soft frame beneath his servo relaxed completely, Megatron took the control beside him and changed the display on the vidscreens.  _There. Something else to watch, my mate._

* * *

**There was no slow awakening the next morning; no lazy afterglow in which she lounged, sleep taking its sweet time with leaving her. Instead the former President jolted against the black hand, having stroked her out if her sleep, to regard the cold, steel face with terror. Sleep did not walk, but ran, ripping away its bliss roughly like an old bandage off raw wounds.**

"Good morning." She was unquestionably awake  **now**.

Unable to help it, she jumped when the digit came down to trace her bare back. It slid all the way down and returned to the top again, persistent and forceful. She opened her mouth to respond, but was promptly hushed. "Your vocalizer is repairing. Do not speak."

Abruptly he sat up, holding her secure to his chest. "Humans require a ration upon onlining, yes?" Megatron bluffed; though it seemed rhetorical, in actuality he was unsure.

She nodded hastily, obeying his order and staying silent. His courtship would go well if she stayed this compliant.

"Stay here." Eleanor, unable to do anything else, remained in her blankets as he set them down and left the table.  _It's a bed. Hmm._

Purple entered her line of sight and drew it away, up to the windows where she saw the extraordinary - Earth wasn't visible anymore, but instead they seemed to be in a…  _I think it's called a nebula._

An invisible fist delivered itself into her belly, hitching her breath. A tear rolled down a cheek, a million things she had taken for granted suddenly  _gone_. She wasn't going home. She would never see Earth again, nor its trees, grass, sky, birds, sunsets, sunrises, rain…

Humans.  _Wilson_.  _Natalie._

The blood drained from her, sobs wreaking havoc on her recovering body as she convulsed uncontrollably but tried to remain silent. Metal gears clicked and whirled behind her, the sounds of Megatron drawing closer.

Her life was gone. She had thought that he had taken everything away from her before - now she was a pet  _and_  she had no clue where she was with no way of going home again. A harsh, unexpected gasp escaped the guards that were her lips.

_I am a toy, there will never be a way for me to escape his will._

His mate sounded upset, little face buried in likewise tiny servo. She twitched, wet sounds coming from her. " _Sweetspark,_  what troubles you so?" His delicate creature didn't respond or give any sign of hearing him. He growled at the disrespect, growing frustrated.

Immediately she turned to him, eyes wide, full of sadness and now fear. Where there should have been white there was red, a constant stream of liquid coming from the inflamed pools. A cough-like sound came from her mouth, a wet one from her nasal ridge.

"Hush," he crooned softly, exasperation peeling away like paint under talons. "No one will hurt you here. You're safe." She didn't seem to believe him, by the way she cowered and burrowed back into her blankets like a trapped turbofox. Her face was hidden again, but she still sounded as though she was crying.

It was easy to find her in the small pile of blankets, the shaking frame not even trying to evade him. He tugged the covering she was holding and plucked her up, bringing her to his faceplates. Instantly his human curled up, a tiny quivering ball.

"Eleanor," he stroked the back that faced him, "look at me."

 _He's angry._ She swiped her cheeks and met his gaze, viciously aware of the capabilities of his hand. "Plae no rt."

 _Please no hurt._ Another gift from the cassettes, no doubt. Megatron ventilated slowly, choosing to say exactly what he had said to Circuitsia. "I have no reason to hurt you. Why would I break that which is mine?"

Eleanor stilled, each blink pushing excess water from her eyes.  _I am a toy, there will never be a way for me to escape his will._

 _But I am a_ _ **special**_   _toy._

Eleanor's reaction was far different than Circuitsia's. Whereas the maid had smiled softly, Eleanor merely regarded him as if she was trying to decide something. Then her gaze lowered, almost in a submissive manner, at stare at her lap. He chose to take it as positive. "There, much better. I have your food ready."

The woman's belly rumbled - the gruel was horrible, but it was food that she needed to recover. She was in neither the condition nor the place to deny. Besides, she did not know when food would be given again. Thus, she took the hand that was offered, as if she even had a choice.

The Decepticon leader brought her to the desk, smiling softly as her optics fixed on the fuel, hungry. The rare expression, already short-lived, was wiped away completely with the notice of an incoming comm. Unfortunately, the circumstances did not allow for its dismissal.

He accepted, switching instantly to Cybertronian as he heard the report. Eleanor jumped, startled, but instantly appeared to relax. She took her cube and started eating, using her sole good hand to eat. The water was ignored.

" _We are anxious to hear your decision, my Lord."_

Megatron considered the human dining on his workspace, hanging onto every bite. New York and Washington were his two locations - with either his statement would be made. His palace would be his palace, the setting made little difference.

 _Or would you like your home again, little one?_ If her new nest was situated in the same spot as the previous one, would that put her at ease?

" _Washington._ " There was a chuckle on the other end of the comm.

A sizable chunk of the goop fell onto a bare leg, where the pale servo quickly followed and scraped it up. She continued eating without pause, but he noticed it was getting more and more difficult for her to keep it in her single functioning servo.

" _Megatron out."_

"I must leave,  _sweetspark._ " She looked up, but her optics did not meet his. They fixed themselves on something he was sure was far less interesting than himself. He surprised her with a gentle, slow pet over her helm and the now-dry mane.  _It needs combing again,_ he noted.

Her disorganized nest was grabbed and set beside her in a pile. Eleanor eyed it, tired from a nearly-sleepless night spent under a monster's grasp. The urge to rest filled her but was promptly dismissed, occupied with food instead.  _When he's gone._

 _She seems to have mellowed._ His optics cast over her frame, from the injured leg over the purpled skin to the broken arm. If it hadn't been for Scrapper's care and his explanatory datapad, how would he have known that there were other injuries besides the glaringly obvious? Her bruises had escaped him - how ignorant was he to think them elegant markings? What they had been in actuality was a nod to Rumble and Frenzy, not an indication of her societal rank.  _Something I must explore thoroughly._

"I will return in a few -" he paused to consider, " _hours."_

The tiniest inclination of her helm seemed to resemble a nod, but he was not sure. Eleanor was acting very… apathetic. Scrapper could only diagnose her frame - he had no ability nor proclivity to investigate her wet processor.

For now, he would start with her frame. If his mate was to remain trapped in an organic body for some time, it would be prudent to understand  _how_ that squishy constitution worked. He had a reference ready for human functions -  _Gray's Anatomy_  seemed comprehensive.

Oh. He had forgotten completely about the gratuitous accessory that had come with his mate.  _She will be disappointed if it expired._

* * *

" _The human has shown a preference for Laserbeak. I insist, my liege."_

Megatron's faceplates didn't show it, but Soundwave's requests were beginning to have an effect on him.

Upon his first step onto the bridge of the Nemesis, Soundwave had handed him the usual datapad of monotonous security reports and immediately stated his request. The reasoning, as always, was sound - to make amends for his indirect transgressions, he wanted to assist with his courtship of Eleanor. Megatron suspected that it was also to repair the tapedeck's standing with himself.

Wise. Starscream never tried this route, although it was never expected. Their relationship was of a different  _dynamic_. In fact, the Seeker was nowhere to be seen.

Regardless, the request to assist was denied flatly without room for objection. It was likely the product of a potent mixture of personal pride and unwillingness to accept help, possessiveness over Eleanor, and vindictiveness for the actions of the cassettes. Besides, the courtship was going fine - as far as the former gladiator was concerned, his mate was finally relaxing, eating, drinking, healing, and becoming accustomed to his presence and her new surroundings.

Yet, he persisted. Every cycle Soundwave would walk past the throne in the center of the bridge, obscuring the light of the large screens where other officers were busy with their work. Even if Megatron was reviewing a datapad (often he ignored the reports to scan his source on human anatomy) Soundwave had a way of making his presence sensed.

Which is where they were now.

" _I have spent considerable time among the humans and have observed and researched their behaviour."_ This new point caught the warlord's attention. The guard -  _Wilson, was it?_  - had also shown some awareness of the specifics of a human's mental wellbeing. Perhaps, if used in tandem, the solution could be found.

And something  _was_ wrong with her. Based on the first time he had taken her someplace new (her nest in New York) she should have been far more jittery and skittish upon introduction to his vessel.  _Definitely_ not lax and passive.

" _I will consider it."_ Soundwave dipped his helm respectfully, briskly leaving the bridge to return to Control, mission a success.

Megatron followed after a moment, intending to finish reading the mundane reports of the officers of Command and of the camp directors before his teleconference with Tarn.

* * *

The usual method of discourse took place over datapads and reports, statistical sheets and names deleted from a list. Direct contact with Tarn was rare, and for good reason.

As much as the formidable mech was subservient and worshipped the ground his pedes walked, there was a level of finesse that had to be held in conversation. Especially today, as he would have to outline why the offenses of Rumble, Frenzy, and Ravage were, indeed, offenses. The Decepticons did not yet know of his mate for the reason that she was (deceivingly) organic. Tarn, as a Decepticon that continuously lived and computed by the Decepticon ideals, would detest organics.

The galaxy's, and eventually the universe's, organic races had to either be purged or enslaved. This core principle he would not sacrifice - Eleanor was an exception, kept alive and comfortable because Circutsia's reincarnated spark flickered beneath her pale skin. However, this simple fact was not sufficient nor was it one that could be divulged to the leader of the D.J.D.

Megatron set aside the last datapad on his desk, the console on his workspace going dark. Now that Eleanor was safe in his own quarters, there was no longer a need to keep watch over her constantly and his workload dwindled, focus devoted to it rather than the intriguing human on the datapad.

Eleanor could be, however, dismissed as property, as a pet, as a temporary toy and perhaps a trophy. Decepticons held no belief in external forces whether it be deities or luck, and held that their strength and ability was what directed them, not destiny. Yet, Megatron knew that it was extreme luck that had placed Eleanor as the head of the human nation that had held him in his prison of ice.

Yes, a trophy was what she would be presented as, his ex-imprisoner on a chain for her humiliation and his amusement. His anger would be due to the fact that  _others_ had broken his toy, not that his toy had been  _broken_  in the first instance. Until it was time for Eleanor to become Queen and to be announced the mate of the Supreme Commander, she would have to be disguised as a pet.

Megatron was not new to the intricate dance that was the politics of the Decepticon faction - he had  _invented_ the dance, written the rules  _himself_ with his own servos. He would play his own deceitful game and win, and that he was sure of. So with a spark full of possessiveness and a servo filled with high-grade, Megatron regarded the screen across from him and strode to it. Eleanor, from the moment he had seen that tiny human frame, was his.

All he had to do was  _keep_ her.

* * *

"Wake, human. I do not possess the time for dawdling."

Wilson's jaw was clenched before his eyes were open, his eyes narrowed before he was on his feet. There it stood, in all its colossal grey glory. Megatron, red eyes the only source of light on the moonless night.

"Where is Eleanor? I heard her screaming!"

"She was damaged, but she has been taken care of." He almost sounded  _tired_.

"What is  _ **that**_ supposed to mean?" Beneath the aggression, in the dark waters of the depths of his mind, lay chilling fear.  _Is she… too broken?_ Wilson's stomach ceased to exist.

Megatron tightened his optics, looking upon Eleanor's bodyguard with growing distaste. It was taking an increasing amount of willpower to keep from snuffing the bothersome insect out of existence. "Eleanor is alive, human. She will be fine."

"I'll be the judge of that when I see the evidence." Wilson bit back, "I don't see her with you. Take me to see her!"

"No." The twin coals burned with a warning, but Wilson did not take it. He trusted himself to know how to speak to Megatron - harshly, with no semblance of anything that could be taken for weakness. His training and expertise gave his mind the ability to quickly turnabout.  _He is trying to court her, and is looking at me as a rival._ A chill of doubt and fear ran up his spine.

"She's hurt again." Wilson remembered all too well the scream that had sounded that morning, how it had suddenly cut out in a way that spoke of...  _No._ " _ **You**_  hurt her again."

The agent's words hit a nerve, unintentionally striking one already set afire with concern and guilt.

A black fist curled around him faster than a snake around its prey, the motion and forces disorienting him. "Need I remind you,  _fleshling_ , that your protection is  _obsolete_ and  _misplaced_?"

Megatron almost laughed at the expression that took up residence in the haggard man's face. The human was seemingly reconsidering, finally remembering its place. "Will I?"

Wilson's throat bobbed. "No."

The command for his servo to flex was aborted.  _It is still needed._ "Now, I have brought food to replenish your stores." Immediately he unloaded the contents of his subspace into the nest.

_Why?_

"Be prepared to offer a critical evaluation of her mental state when I return." Megatron studied the silent human for a moment, then continued, "I am committed to caring for her." Perhaps if the guard was convinced first of his sincerity, rather than Eleanor, the male could be used to then persuade his mate.

Wilson's brows furrowed as the titan set him down, as one would a doll, and presented him with his back. "Is that all?" The idea that there would be nothing more, nothing painful or gruesome, was difficult to comprehend.

"Yes."

Human eyes followed the grey mass until it melted among the buildings, like a snake into dry grass. Then, they passed to the bagged chips and packaged candy, puzzlement so bright it shone through the darkness.

* * *

" _Enter."_

The datapad containing human specifications was tossed aside, servo replacing it with yet another cube of high-grade. It was never enough for intoxication - merely sufficient to start a pleasant buzz in his circuitry. After seeing such unexpected information on the human frame, his processor needed a diversion.

 _A female is only able to reproduce for a fourth of her lifespan. What_ _ **purpose**_ _does this serve?_  The idea that Eleanor was running out of time was not one he had anticipated - among other hindrances. Fortunately, it was Shockwave's function to relinquish such inconvenient truths.

The pedesteps did not stop before Shockwave greeted, " _Lord Megatron, how might I serve you?"_

From orns of experience he knew that neither Shockwave nor Soundwave would question his orders, though for different reasons. " _I believe that you have experimented on humans before, am I correct?"_

" _That is correct."_

" _What about this one? Is it suitable for a procedure?"_ Frozen footage was shown to Shockwave, only one frame of the millions in his small collection.

It was not lost on Shockwave that Megatron had, evidently, selected a human. The fact was filed away for future scrutiny.

The single optic didn't linger; Megatron wondered whether the mech had even looked at all. " _This depends on the qualities of the organic and the methodology of the intended procedure, as well as-"_

" _Cyberformation using the Allspark."_ For a nanoklik all there was was the dull sound of fans running and gears shifting as Megatron withdrew the datapad and set it back into its space in his top drawer, where it was easily accessible.

" _I have never considered this possibility."_ Shockwave seemed disturbingly enthusiastic, if such a thing were possible for a victim of the Institute.

" _Conduct your research and report your findings to me."_ Megatron ordered, " _It is best that they remain confidential."_ This was hardly different than any other scientific research - during the war, all weapons advances were made in secret. If anything it was a continuation of traditional protocol, or at least it would seem this way to Shockwave.

" _What is the rationale, my Liege?"_

" _Soundwave tells me that humans retain a unique ability to reproduce quickly and repeatedly, without significant strain."_ Merely a repetition of what he already knew that Shockwave knew about Earth's (formerly) dominant species. " _Our population dwindles, and the Decepticons need new additions to the ranks."_

" _When can I expect the delivery of this human?"_ His spark seized at the thought - Shockwave believed that Eleanor would be a test subject.  _If she barely made it through a megacycle with Rumble and Frenzy, surely she would expire in a nanoklik under Shockwave._ His knowledge of the specifics was lacking, but he did know that organic experimentation involved plenty of dissection, often on living subjects.

_No more slicing for you, my delicate creature._

The Decepticon tyrant leaned back in his chair, almost slouching, and drank from his cube. " _This one will undergo the procedure once your tests have come to a conclusion."_ His spark had never snarled so protectively, angrier than a starved sparkeater. " _You will have access to as many humans as needed for your research. Are your orders clear?"_

" _Affirmative, my Lord."_

" _Consider this a top priority. You are dismissed."_

Shockwave dipped his helm in acceptance and exited the dim office promptly. No sooner had the door cycled shut than Megatron had taken up his resource on human anatomy, ventilating measuredly. There was not much that remained of the text - it would only help if he reviewed human psychology as well.

* * *

Reports became a blur, a sign that a reset of the processor and optics would be beneficial. As correct as this assumption was on most occasions, it failed him now. The more that he learned of the psychology and workings of human attraction, the more Megatron thought of Eleanor and her uncharacteristic behaviour, and the more his CPU felt disorganized and unfocused.

Would it be wise to introduce another mech to Eleanor? He had believed that she was not sufficiently comfortable with himself as of then, and thusly decided against it. However, now it was time that she learned how to conduct herself around other mechs - as much as he liked being the only Decepticon that she was accustomed to.

" _Soundwave, report."_ Megatron knew that Soundwave would know his location, and surely there came a ping a half-Breem later. Though the mech knew little of what would be required to cyberform her, he sensed that it was not going to be a painless procedure. To Shockwave pain was not an important consideration for his patients. He wanted to gain Eleanor's trust before she underwent such a process.

He had little time for trial and error, if he wanted to cyberform her before she underwent this " _menopause_." He would not base the reproductive capabilities of his future mate on conjecture, even if it was the belief of his trusted scientist. Megatron wanted to be  _sure_ that she could have bitlets.  _His_ little bitlets.

" _Enter, Soundwave."_ The ridges along the form of the Communications Officer were highlighted with pale blue as he stepped into his Master's office, the holographic mapping table before Megatron and the large monitors to his back the only sources of light.

" _My Lord,"_ Soundwave dipped his helm in his customary sign of respect.

" _At ease. You will accompany me to my personal quarters."_

He was sure that he heard the plating of the other mech quiver, unless it was his own chair groaning. " _I live to serve, Lord Megatron."_ By the slightest nervous twinge in the mech's monotonous voice, the rattling had come from him.

" _Come_." The walk was silent, thick with charge that both could feel but neither could quantify with sensors. Megatron didn't bother to correct it - there was no need for explanations.

Only when he was outside his own doors did Megatron speak, instructing " _She speaks English, but the human does not know of the plans for her. Refer to her as only 'human.'"_ He noticed the tension leave immediately, even if Soundwave gave no indication that he had assumed incorrectly. " _Observe."_

Eleanor hadn't moved from the blankets, even after hours musing over her fate. Her eyes had stayed locked on the stars and nebulas outside, as if they might leap through the windows at any moment to gobble her up like the tiny speck of dust she was. Amidst all of her crying and emotional, cyclical thoughts, she had come to several harsh conclusions: 1) She was never going to see Earth again, at least not until she was very old, 2) she was not likely to see another human again (unless Megatron knew about how babies were made and wanted her to  _breed_ ) 3) She had likely been part of a sacrifice to get him to leave, or at least a prisoner that couldn't be rescued, 4) She might die of starvation once she ate all that he had for her, and 5) There was no escape from this terrible fate.

In a word, her life was over. Once a President, now a pet.  _6) You're not going to get clothes again._ To her shame, she was already growing accustomed to cold, bare, prone skin.

There was never any warning when Megatron was coming back. In the apartment she could hear the drumbeats of her captor, striding between the buildings like a tiger through grassland. The swish of air that ruffled her finger-combed hair and the click that was produced by the parting of the doors was her rude awakening as two robots came in, heavy feet producing thuds. The first greeted her with an unsettling smirk, and the second showed no emotion at all.

Eleanor was sure that her digestion stopped right there. In fact, she wasn't sure she even had a stomach anymore. Her hands shook as she drew them in closer, her injured arm displeased at the jarring.

_Not_ _**that** _ _one._

Megatron wasted no time, "Hello, Eleanor. Soundwave has come to ask you some questions."

 _Not that one, please._ His mate cast a terrified stare at Soundwave, who still stood by the door behind Megatron. "No hrt," he thought she might have murmured.

" _She is distrustful. Find what bothers her and tell me what can be done."_ Megatron took a step away from his Eleanor, opening up a clear path between her and Soundwave. The Emperor didn't miss how she cowered when Soundwave stepped up to her.  _What an odd reaction._

The Communications Officer did not touch his mate, but stepped close to the desk and bent over to inspect her. He sounded exactly as she thought a robot would sound, computerized flat pronunciation and all, "Inquiry: Human enjoys Lord Megatron's care?"

It was not anticipated that the warlord would have gathered all of the human's necessities, but Soundwave confirmed that they were there. It puzzled him.  _Why care for a former head of state that had imprisoned him?_

Knowing that lying was in her best interests, she nodded in defeat. It was so small the ex-gladiator wasn't sure that he saw it.  _He's a_ _ **Lord**_ _?_ Now she was more than a special pet - she was a  _royal_ pet. In a twisted way, she was almost glad.  _Why is he talking to me like I am a_ _ **simpleton**_ _?_

"Inquiry: Human finds it comfortable?"

"Inquiry: Human thinks food is good?"

 _Yes,_ was nodded again. Eleanor was crouched over, posture very animal-like in the shadow of his Third-in-Command. She cast a helpless glance around her, up the imposing, powerful form of her grey captor. Crimson eyes burned with no definitive emotion, the same shade as the visor bearing down on her now. The silver helmet of  _Lord_ Megatron captured her unwavering attention, mountainous shoulders and massive arms relaxed.

A blue hand, somewhat smaller than Megatron's, was set down beside her. Each finger was as long as she was tall, almost as thick as her body. If she was ever to have seen a depiction of what a  _god_ looked like, it would be one of them. She could see, clear as day, why the ancients would have  _worshiped_ them.

_I_ _**am** _ _inferior. That's why I am "Human." To them, I must be a fool, an insect, a_ _**bug** _ _._

Rumble and Frenzy, though her size, could have killed her how one would gut a deer. Megatron could still swat her like a fly, as this Soundwave could smash her like a roach. The only reason that she wasn't dead was because she was being played with, perhaps experimented on. She was a mouse in the paws of a cat, but downgraded further to the level of a strange, exotic animal. The weight of this truth was placed square on her shoulders, far more heavy than even her captor's hand.  _I know that I want to live._

_I want to live for the chance to see Earth again, to see Natalie and Wilson. I want to live for the chance to breathe real air, drink real water and eat real food. I want to live for the chance to be_ _**free** _ _._

Her gaze dropped down to the blanket clenched in one fist, the invisible bugs on her skin vanishing as a tear painted the back of her hand.  _7) To live, I must please them._

Ironically Soundwave declared, "Statement: Human serves Lord Megatron well." She had never felt so unbelievably  _small_. The pair of lungs that had escaped her notice spasmed upon intake of breath.  _It hurts._ The wetness on her hand grew from a drop to a small puddle.

A corner of his lip components came upward as her helm bowed lower at the praise - a common signal of human embarrassment. He would not be surprised if, should he tilt that tiny chin upwards, he would see a strange redness coloring her pale cheek-skin.

" _May I ask, my liege, why this human was chosen in particular? The female appears defective."_

" _How so?"_ Any possible defects had escaped his attention - it might be that this was what was impairing her.

" _As herd organics_ ,  _humans are typically very vocal creatures even when frightened -"_

" _Her vocaliser is damaged."_ The warlord's tone was dangerously flat, disappointed that this "defect" was inconclusive. " _Whatever was done to her made her lose her ability to communicate." Her_ _ **only**_ _ability to communicate._ He knew now that humans did not have comm. systems.  _Primitive._

Soundwave paused for a nanoklik, then looked back to the human. " _I understand, my Lord."_

In a single stride he impulsively plucked her up, protective feelings aroused at the mention of her injury. "!" was the only vocalization that his mate made, jarred into motion. Grey eyes flashed around before landing on his faceplates and staying there, transfixed. "?" His spark grew warm and he had the urge to smile again.

" _Do you recognize these little optics?"_ Eleanor allowed him to manipulate her fragile helm so that Soundwave could come closer and see her eyes. This close his voice was loud and deep, rattling her chest cavity with its beeps, clicks, and rumbles. The woman shifted uneasily, under the distinct impression that she was being shown off like an expensive pet at a cocktail party.  _You really_ _ **are**_ _an exotic. That could be both good and bad, practically speaking_.

 _An expensive pet is more likely to be better cared for_ , a side of her hoped only for the other to deadpan,  _but at the same time not._

" _They resemble that of Circuitsia's, if I am correct my Liege."_

Megatron confirmed, taking his digit away from her chin." _Yes. However, she does not act as a human in such a new environment would."_ Her helm dropped down limply as if she had no control over it.  _What's broken now?_

" _She does not act fearful. Her musculature is not tense, nor is she cowering."_

Soundwave agreed, surprised that his Lord knew so much about the organics. The understanding of humans was something he had believed he would  _never_ partake in. " _May I see you pet her?"_ Out of respect for his leader's choice in language, Soundwave refrained from using "it."

The human stayed docile and compliant as a few strokes were given to her back and head. Relying on what he had seen in human media, Soundwave asked " _If she is placed on her back and her chassis is touched, does she react?"_ He was scrutinizing her body language, reading it for signs of distress.

Eleanor was limp as Megatron deftly rolled her over in the hard, cold palm, utilizing only a single finger to do so. Her hip banged against a seam on his palm, aggravating a sensitive bruise and adding a minor scrape. She observed the finger as it descended in slow motion, petting her chest firmly.  _If he gets what he wants, you live. Capiche? Stop being so_ _ **weak**_ _._

" _And if you pet between her legs?"_ Megatron did just that, inspecting the female as he did so. Soundwave paid more attention to her face, to the center of human emotion in her eyes. At first they went wide, then closed. Not tightly, but forcefully.  _I am a toy, there will never be a way for me to escape his will._

_To live I must surrender. To live I must surrender. To live I must surrender._

" _Her optics indicate that she is frightened."_

Megatron drew himself up, lips condensing into a firm line. " _Then why does she not act it? Why does she not_ _ **fight**_ _if she does not like it?_ " His memory banks reminded him, with a sharp sting, that she had once had the bearings to tell him to "frag off."

The difference in her behaviour became all the more disturbing.

Soundwave was bound by his loyalty to tell the truth to his Master - he only hoped that his cassettes wouldn't suffer more because of it. " _She has learned that it is useless to resist."_

" _Humans call it 'Learned Helplessness.'"_ Megatron would research it later.

" _What can be done to alleviate this?"_ A spineless mate was undesirable, as was a miserable one. Though he had stopped touching her, she laid exactly as he had placed her.

" _To gain the trust of the cassettes, I found that feeding by servo will show that it is not a threat, as does cleaning and polishing. Spending time leisurely with her will force her to become acquainted. She will become more brave."_ Soundwave didn't expect any of his suggestions to be taken seriously. " _As a social creature without any human contact, she will engage in herd-building behaviour and form a bond."_

Megatron looked down at her. " _Dismissed_." He hoped that she wouldn't stay like this forever because of the cassettes.  _There must be a way for her to heal._

There was an uneasy shift as Soundwave paused by the doors." _My liege, if I may ask,"_ Megatron looked up from his mate, servo deepening its cup, " _when will they be returned?"_ Concern tinged the edge of the voice of his favourite officer. Soundwave would only ask if he was truly worried.

The burning, vindictive desire to answer "never," filled him in an instant. The next it was gone, dismissed as an emotional impulse that was unbecoming and incredibly unlike himself. " _In one megacycle."_

Megatron, in turn, grew concerned as Soundwave left.  _She's still only a human._ If he expected to control his mechs, an assortment of disorderly former criminals mixed with treacherous thugs, he had to control  _himself_.

The door shut and closed, but Eleanor remained still.  _We're alone again._ Her chest constricted until she couldn't breathe, good hand splayed over his black paint as she tried to keep from shaking.

_To live I must surrender._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for bearing with me through this busy time. Please continue to leave feedback - I cannot put into words how great it feels to see when someone leaves a comment. Please know that, even if you do not think that you have anything constructive to say and that it's just "fluff," your comments are not meaningless. Every comment means something (even if it does take a while for me to answer). 
> 
> Please leave your thoughts on how this chapter went and what I may improve upon/touch up for the next! Thank you!


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanoklik - about 1 second
> 
> Cycle - 1 hour 15 minutes
> 
> Breem - 8.3 minutes
> 
> Astrosecond - 0.498 seconds
> 
> Mega-cycle - 93 hours (almost 4 days)
> 
> Deca-cycle - 3 weeks
> 
> Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
> 
> Solar cycle - 1 day

 

"Sit." An insistent finger pushed her up even as she hastened to obey. The midnight metal was cold against her skin, working its way into her muscles to numb them like liquid ice.

There was no EM field for him to read, and so he scrutinized her body language. Her posture did not remind him of fear, but it was reminiscent of a turbofox in a new cage. Grey pools watched him but did not meet his optics, avoiding any attempt he made to connect with them.  _At least they are open._

He knew little about what was ailing her and even less about methods to alleviate her symptoms. Megatron would visit the guard after he tended to her first - he had no choice but to start with Soundwave's suggestions.

Eleanor immediately moved into the blankets when set down, legs tingling with numbness as she rubbed her thighs to warm them. A cursory glance told her that Megatron was preparing her slop again, mixed feelings arising in her gut. It was disgusting, sure, but it was food with better nutritional value than the potato chips and shrink-wrapped cakes.  _You aren't going to get those again, are you?_

She didn't realize how  _tense_  she was until he left with her "bathtub" and drinking glass.  _At least you eat from dishes. No cutlery, but better than his hand or the floor._

No sooner had he set down the water containers, some of it sloshing over the edge of the smaller cube, than he had seized her up with a familiar pinch of two fingers. Megatron gently pushed his mate back into his cupped servo, admiring her sparkling grey optics as she immediately went limp. He dipped a digit into the large container of her fuel to pile some on the tip, a grimace nearly making its way to his faceplates.  _As long as she likes it._

Alarm flashed through her muscles, making them go rigid, as the hand wrapped itself around her faster than she could blink. Now she was belly-down, both good and bad arm pinned against her, the latter emitting a throbbing pain. She dared not kick, lest she upset him or hurt either injured limb. "Eat."

A finger was casually offered to her, slop running off of it in globs. The knowledge of what he wanted seeped into her, biting like the frigid air of the room.  _So much for dishes._ Should she protest her degradation? Should she accept what was given? Her instincts, her ironclad will to survive, wrenched the choice away.

Eleanor shut her eyes and extended her tongue, too afraid of the prospect of being crushed or starved to despise the disgrace. The gruel tasted far worse this time.

His future Carrier was licking up her food with hasty swipes of her tiny, squishy, pink glossa. She was obedient, just as he desired, and also eating in his close presence. If she continued to behave, he would give her her treat later. A thrum came from him, like the rumble of distant thunder, giving her pause. After studying him and determining it a positive reaction, she went back to the food quickly. The sooner she finished, the better for both her pride and her life.  _Or what's left of them._

Only the mush on top was eaten first. Her tongue could not be brought to contact any part of him in such an animalistic way.  _I don't even know what he's touched._ When the disgraced President pulled her head away, glad that she had finished, the finger was promptly thrust back into her face. She waited a tense moment, unsure about whether he was serious or not. With  _every last fibre_  of her being, she hoped not.

Why was she refusing to finish her meal? Was she frightened again? He had never seen her eat so fast, even when he had fed her after her disastrous stay with the cassettes. Surely she was still hungry.

"Finish." It sounded like a harsh order and less like the intended coax.  _It's alright._

A pleasant tingle ran from the tip of his digit as the femme touched her glossa to the armor, laving long licks to clean up the last of her food. It was softer and more squishy than he had believed it would be, warm and malleable against his hard plating. A shiver was stifled before it could freeze his gears and panic the tranquil human eating at his finger. His processor entertained the idea of smearing some fuel elsewhere for her to clean up so diligently. Would he start with his lip components, jaw, throat cables? Perhaps his pan-

He almost growled when she stopped, nearly squeezing his fist in a way that would have crushed her.  _Enough._

A hesitant whimper drew his attention, sweeping away his arousal like Black Shadow had the organics of Rigel IV. "?"

Only her helm and tiny shoulders were free of his grip, but they fidgeted with clear discomfort. Her optics were wide but narrowed at the corners, even wetter than normal, and when he tried to make contact she immediately dropped her gaze.  _She's scared._

"Good girl," he praised softly. " _Very_  good girl."

He centered her in his servo again, cupping it around her protectively as she laid on her back. Eleanor eyed the two sides of her hammock of steel, smarting from his disparaging praise and still unsettled at the growl. "I have water for you as well."

She drank from the cube pinched between two colossal fingers, glad that she didn't have to lick  _this_  up. Cold and refreshing, it slid down faster than the slop ever had - a fortunate occurrence, since he didn't allow her to pull away. Again she was expected to finish it all, but this time without breath. Her bloated stomach hurt with how much had been so quickly forced into it; first the heavy muck that sat like a rock then chugged, cool water.

The titanic warlord realized belatedly that he should have given her a chance to respire. Her tissues shook with the depth and quantity of her breath, faceplates reddened, as soon as he removed the cube from her lips.

"Hush," he whispered, sounding to Eleanor like a burst of unpleasant static. "You will be fine."

No response came except a tiny shiver. Her gaze locked on the vapour rising from the bath, tongue licking her lips, still breathing heavily. "Would you like another wash?"  _She must want one. For what reason would she look at it?_

 _Who knows when you will get a bath again._ Another shiver shook her spine as if someone had tickled her back with a feather-light touch. She wouldn't dare take it for granted. The memory of filth lingered in her head, associated with cold and pain and blood.  _Take it._ He would probably just force her to clean anyway. It didn't matter what she said.  _He obviously wants you to take one._ Shyly, eyes fixed elsewhere, she nodded.

_So be it._

* * *

Eleanor noticed that his drying was more careful, almost considerate, as she was flipped around less and patted more.

"That's better, all clean." A tender finger brushed back her hair, even as she shied from it. "Is there anything you want?" Her evasive behaviour did not escape his notice, reeking of this "learned helplessness," as Soundwave had called it.

"No, thk ou." Her voice was clearer now though strain was apparent, like the rasp of squealing metal.

"Settle in then." Eleanor practically leapt out of his servo into her nest, disappearing quickly beneath the covers with a speed that could only be attributed to unease.

He ventilated slowly, taking up the pile and ignoring the cry from within. With his other servo Megatron found the bulge that was his mate and began to stroke, long and gentle. The metal of his chair groaned as he leaned back, cupping her to his chassis and never ceasing the petting.  _What is this "learned helplessness" that you have, little one?_

As primitive as the global network was, he found his answers quickly.  _Condition that encompasses a sense of powerlessness, arising from a traumatic event or persistent failure to succeed._ Concerned, Megatron continued to search through results.  _The organism learns that it is helpless in situations where there is a presence of aversive stimuli, has accepted that it has lost control, and thus gives up trying._ Her guard had described something similar using different terms in their first discussion. His mechs had yet another word for her state, though less scientific, that described the condition of long-term Autobot prisoners.

 _ **Broken**_.

He looked at the still bundle with new optics, worried. How could this be cured? The Decepticon leader had no need nor want for his mate, a being already much smaller than himself, to behave like a trapped glitchmouse.  _It seems as though_   _she must have choices, and she must have time._

" _Sweetspark,_ look at me." Two innocent stars gleamed up at him from under a cloth, wide with trepidation.

"I have never hurt you, nor will I ever." It was a bold promise, almost a defiance of his coding. None were immune to physical punishment on his part; but for one so small and fragile it wasn't necessary.  _She needs to trust me._ Eleanor cocked her head at him, not understanding what had prompted this.

"There is no need for fear here." His coo was punctuated with a mindful pet down her soft body, dragging the blanket down. "This is your home now. With me you are safe."

Unintentionally Eleanor shifted her eyes to the windows, heart beating fast as she covered her chest again.  _It really is gone now, isn't it? They're gone. I-it's all gone._

_This really is my h-home now._

Megatron followed her forlorn gaze and stroked her again. "Rest. You need to heal." He was obeyed without question, the human ducking back into her burrow to hide.  _What was she looking at?_

He made sure that she was in recharge when he set her down on his berth, admiring with a slight smile how she had buried herself. It might have been adorable were it not out of her stubborn fear. Thus, Megatron answered the incoming comm. quietly to avoid spooking her." _I_ _ **trust**_ _that this is_ _ **important**_ _Soundwave."_

* * *

The skin of her back wrinkled beneath the bandage as she moved. Eight red, deep wounds still remained, much to his frustration. As gruesome as it was, her face betrayed no signs of pain as she leaned over the tips of his digits to lick up the food on his outheld finger. Her movements were more sure since he had decided to stop holding her in a fist to feed.

He was sure that his optics flared when she looked back at him, strange glossa swiftly cleaning her lips from her breakfast. Eleanor stiffened, eyes widening in an expression all-too-familiar. Her body angled itself fully towards him, tiny bumps visible on nearly every surface, an indicator of cold. He made a note to get her more clothes from Earth. As much as he wanted to watch her skin heal, she needed to be kept warm and comfortable.

Megatron emitted a throaty rumble in an attempt to calm her nerves, lifting the corners of his lip components in a small smile. To Eleanor he may as well have been the Cheshire Cat, and immediately she cringed in a sign of submission.

"Why do you react this way?" A sharp metal knuckle smoothed over her fur, soothing. "I will not hurt you."

 _You just said that last night._ Eleanor pursed her lips.  _But do I trust you?_ "M I spk?"

"Yes," was whispered earnestly. His audial inputs received all of his attention, the sounds of her respiration being picked up as the sensitivity increased.

"Rmbl, Frenzy -"

He shifted her closer, understanding. "They cannot access you here  _sweetspark_." His other servo came to cup her back, thumb stroking her carefully. Realisation overcame him; Circuitsia had acted in just the same distrustful way after she had been assaulted, as if the attackers were always present and waiting to pounce again. "Therefore, refrain from acting with fear."  _They won't get close to you again._

"Unless I am the one that terrifies you?"

His expression reminded her of an adult expecting a confession from a dishonest child. Red eyes pressed like the weight of a thousand hands, demanding an immediate, and truthful, answer. But was it wise to reveal a weakness?  _In case you haven't noticed,_ a strange voice bit,  _you aren't in Kansas anymore._ She had to agree, albeit reluctantly,  _Adapt to your circumstances, Eleanor._

"Yes." It almost qualified as a squeak, tiny and quiet.  _He probably knew anyway._

For a long moment nothing happened, the only sound that of his fans and gears beneath metal skin. "That is unnecessary and misplaced." Tension lifted as she was placed down, even though she was still within easy reach for a crushing blow. Megatron noted how she looked up at him with a flicker of curiosity and confusion in her strange organic eyes. "And you will ask any questions that you may have. Familiarize yourself with me,  _sweetspark_."

Eleanor nodded, terror dissipating despite herself. She  _did_ need to calm down, even if only in the spirit of self-preservation. She knew that the effects of long-term stress would kill her if nothing else. Without support and without escape it was essential that she think clearly. Besides, it wasn't as if Megatron had starved her or otherwise neglected her. He was an unaware alien and still had taken care of her (for the most part) - that had to be worth something.

He couldn't know about certain human norms - clothes must be a strange concept, privacy in bathing not considered necessary. On all counts, he was being very good to her.

She could keep her guard up without being terrified anyway. The familiar yet startling reflection in the glass of his eyes was beginning to wear her down - it was difficult to believe that she looked that fearful, that  _weak_.

_You're not in Kansas anymore._

* * *

"Do you like your present?"

The anxious woman tipped her head forward in her attempt to please. It worked, and an intimidating smile bared strange teeth that could snap her in half. "Good."

Eleanor tossed freshly combed hair back with her good hand and snuggled deeper into the provided blankets, belly full with her breakfast. The gifted book remained in her lap, plucked up once she settled. It wasn't that she wouldn't enjoy the gift - she needed something to pass the time and occupy her thoughts - rather, it was yet another addition to the pile of symbols growing by the hour.

"Tell me if you want another. There are more." She nodded in understanding, gaze downcast.

Eleanor didn't need to turn to realize that the door had shut. The sound and slight rustle of air was familiar enough by now. Why had he kept her anyway? What reason was there to keep her alive? Could she be so lucky as to be on the receiving end of a strange alien custom whereby defeated leaders were doted upon by the victors? Was she a responsibility? That seemed supported by the medical care, food, water, blankets, and attention.

Megatron may also be taking her to a superior. He was the largest she had seen so far - what if his commander was even  _more_ colossal?  _Maybe you are en route to be a pet of their Emperor, and Megatron is your temporary caretaker._

But then why was she taunted by Rumble and Frenzy? Surely they would know of the tradition and follow it if it was so important?  _Dare I ask why? And he also called me "his."_

" _You are such a fascinating and wonderful creature, one worth keeping."_ She still didn't have the slightest idea of what that meant.  _Probably a pet._ She sighed, tightening the blankets. What puzzled her further was the lack of a military presence - she should have seen  _someone_ at some point.  _I expected more of a_ _ **fight**_ _. Why did they give up so quickly?_

Maybe she could ask when he returned about what had happened on Earth, about why he had left. She needed to know what had become of her people even if she would never see them again. With several hours all to herself, her questions were carefully worded and responses clearly planned. A dark cloud hung over her head, mind heavy with the understanding that her life depended on her actions.

Megatron came back alone, to her relief, and greeted her as he always did. "Good evening, little one."

"Hi," she croaked, voice still a little sore. She didn't know which was more unsettling - his smile, or the fact that it took away some of the tension in her nervous head.

"Have you tried reading your book?" Her throat constricted. Oh no.

"No," she mumbled, immediately dropping her eyes self-consciously to the cool metal of his hand. Hopefully this conversation wouldn't end with her blood smeared there.

He had expected her to enjoy his gift, especially with no other sources of entertainment. " _Why_?" Something in his tone appeared to make her anxious. She coughed, "I have questio for ou."

Megatron hadn't been expecting that.  _She was thinking of questions, as I asked._ His spark attempted to leap from its chamber with anticipation. "You may ask them." To make her more comfortable he took a seat and placed her on the desktop, perhaps with a speed not meant for her. She shook her helm as organic equilibrium sensors reset, blinking rapidly for an instant. Megatron followed as she pointed at the screens, seemingly indicating a purple nebuloid region. "Where?"

 _She doesn't understand._ A devious plan entered his processor, based on one of the conditions of human attraction. "We have taken what we needed from Earth and have since left."  _Make her believe she is alone._ She shook her hand, tiny skin-covered intake bobbing once. "We are on the edge of the galaxy. That brightest star is Rigel."

After asking his permission, Soundwave had fetched a human for himself from the surface. The communications officer claimed that it would be a female Eleanor knew and it would help to soothe his mate. Megatron was loathe to allow that - if she continued to show signs of improvement, he would dismiss Soundwave's slave.

He wanted his mate to acclimate to himself first before she formed social bonds with anyone else. Trust was all that she needed to start building a bond with him. With no other humans or beings to compete with, he was her sole chance for socializing. In fact, he was her sole provider of all her necessities. Even warmth was hard to come by without his servo to heat her up.

Eleanor's heart sank as the news was confirmed and the final threadbare shred of hope was severed.  _Home._ Would she ever see it again? Her hand wiped her cheek before she had even realised a tear had been shed.

 _Sweetspark, don't cry!_ Megatron lowered himself until he was at her level, promising sincerely in an effort to quiet her,"I'll take care of you." She was still wiping at her eyes and didn't react when he hesitantly pet her head.  _If you left me there you wouldn't have to take care of me._

He seemed to be in a good mood, tone increasingly soft. She had to do this now, or wait for an unknown period of time. After a moment, when she was once again in control, her inquiry was posed. "Where… are… you… ordered… now?" she sniffed and swallowed, wiping her eyes.

Megatron quickly disregarded her tears as signs of an irritant in her sensitive eyes focusing instead on her peculiar query. He opened his mouth to respond when she continued painfully, "Are… we… going… to see… your… Emperor?"

It began near his tanks and built its way up, rumbling like an onlining engine. Eleanor cowered and her eyes widened as a great laugh burst from his mouth, a sound so loud she could feel it in her chest. He leaned back, suddenly dramatically bigger, as he continued to guffaw.

Nervous, Eleanor waited for his explanation. "Oh  _sweetspark_ ," he finally answered, "Every mech you have seen, or will ever see, is mine to order. Every destination, planet or galaxy, is mine to choose. Every ship, patrol or cruiser, is mine to command.

"I  _ **am**_  the Emperor, the Supreme Commander, of the Decepticons."

 _And you, little one, are my mate_.

Her jaw hung slightly open, in mild shock. That explained a lot. The sizable gun on his arm gleamed malicious black, seeming to further enlarge his already considerable size. The regal helmet made his face all the more menacing, emphasizing all of the sharp edges that comprised it. Despite the absence of muscle, she could see raw strength ripple through him with each simple movement. The purple emblem, displayed so proudly on his chest, held a name. Immediately she contracted, feeling naked and small in a more  _metaphorical_  sense.

In an effort to combat her body language he soothed, "I should have told you sooner,  _sweetspark_. Do not blame yourself."  _Your naivet_ _é_   _makes you all the more_   _charming_.

"I-I," Eleanor grasped for something, anything, to say that would alleviate his hot, expectant stare and the dark, wide smile that twisted his lips. "What… do… I call… you?"  _Please._

Megatron could not help but consider his options. My liege? My lord? My Emperor? My Master? My  _protector_? My  _ **mate**_?

"The current address will do just fine." He purred.  _All the better to allow her to write her own title._  Eleanor nodded, not really listening now. "Anything else?"

What other reason was there to keep her? Her head was spinning, trying to account for two life-changing delegations that had come in the span of a minute. Without rhyme, reason, or a shred of rationality she asked, "Do… you… have… a mate?" Voice already becoming more strained she waved her hand to convey,  _or whatever._ She hoped she was respectful enough. The right corner of his mouth lifted upwards in a way she could only describe as amused, perhaps with a hint of  _knowing_.

"Yes, I do." Eleanor shuffled uncomfortably at the thought. Really it had been a shot in the dark - she hadn't thought about his kind  _having_ mates, or moreover having a purpose  _for_  them.  _How do they reproduce anyway?_ Her mind was truly going a mile a minute. Regardless, was that why she was here? Was she a gift puppy?  _You'd better get a bow, Megatron. I'm not much to look at._

"A pretty little thing."

"Do… I… belong… to her...?"  _Or him. Whichever it is. Are they all male?_

"No." He purred, "You're mine." The giant's spark flared and his lap stirred at having said the possessive words at long last. He finished it off with a pet over her helm.  _ **All**_ _mine._

Eleanor blinked at his tone, puzzled. "Okay." She ducked out of instinct but was unable to evade his finger.  _I thought I wasn't a pet._

_Maybe they don't have a word for what I am. He does speak a different language, after all._

Uncomfortable with his overall demeanor since she had asked about his mate, the President decided not to question further about them. It was likely she would never see them anyway, if things continued like this. Thus, she was absolutely quiet through the rest of the evening, staring - quite literally - into space, trying to adapt.

Megatron was almost disappointed when she fell silent and, though tempted he was to push her into more conversation, he refrained. For the very reason that he fed her from his own servo, he would not rush her.

* * *

Why did this have to happen to her? Why was  _she_ the one out here, alone, probably never to see Earth again? Why did  _she_ have to play pet, or whatever the hell she was? Dare she act out against him?

The weight over her back shifted.  _The giant awakens_. An entitled finger petted her through the blankets, perhaps in what he believed to be a gentle rousing. Blood resumed it flow throughout her back and legs as the massive weight was lifted from her.

"Good morning, Eleanor."

That same damned greeting. She burrowed back down, anger rising in her throat. If he truly meant that he wasn't going to hurt her - which seemed a genuine promise - she could ask for some better conditions.

 _I want to feel like a_ _ **human**_ _again._ Her need to both survive via brownnosing and avenge her wounded pride were clashing again.

Burning rage made her chest constrict as he straightened and pompously manipulated her into an enormous hand, the other producing a brush from who-knows-where.  _No more!_

"No!" She cried out, frustration bringing tears to her eyes. Megatron hesitated when he saw her toss her helm wildly to avoid her comb. What was wrong? She had liked this before, why was she panicking? Was she doing a variation of what humans did sometimes in their recharge - "sleep walking?"

"Hush,  _sweetspark."_ Her chassis pushed at his armor in a desperate fight for air, her tiny, squishy servos beating uselessly at his armored fist. The titan barely felt the contact, the real pain coming from concern and pity deep in his spark for her well-being.  _Don't hurt yourself._

"No!" Her frame squirmed in a way metal never could, skin beginning to squeak. Megatron gave up on trying to calm her, instead letting her wear herself out.

Eventually she collapsed over the side of his fist, panting hard, leaking even as her eyes squeezed shut. After a few moments he started to comb her mane, careful to be gentle as possible. "Look, there is nothing to fear. You're safe." He could hardly hear himself, so quiet was his coo. She sniffed, chest fluctuating rapidly in an odd breath as she turned her face away. It sounded as if her lungs were malfunctioning.

He was almost done grooming when he sensed a liquid on his servo and turned his fist to inspect it. As he did the warlord saw that his mate was crying, so many tears leaking out of her innocent optics that her faceplates were completely wet. "Are you really that scared?" He asked softly, frowning when she winced with a stifled cry.

"I cannot make it better if you do not tell me." His mate had a voice, and Megatron was tiring of trying to figure her out on his own.

She turned her head away again, slumping. "Do what you will." It was the clearest she had spoken since her injury, but flat and without enunciation; drenched with learned helplessness.

"You  **will**  answer me." He didn't care that her muscles grew tense. "And you  **will**  tell me what ails you." The sharp edge of frustration prodded her heart and made the tears stop, emotional gears switching rapidly.

"So, what is it?" His wishes were not as anticipated. To survive, she would have to take the unexpected route and please him the unanticipated way.

"Can I…" she sniffed wetly, eyes searching his expression to be sure that this was what he wanted, "brush my own hair?"

"Very well." As soon as the brush left his fingertips, Megatron missed it. Preening his mate had hardly been a chore - once he had learned that it was normal for a few strands of hair to come loose, it was rather enjoyable. The result was a soft mane that tickled his sensors and an alien sheen that caught his gaze.

Eleanor took it from him, quickly as she sensed that he was displeased. "Thank you." To placate him, a smile was flashed despite her distress.

She did her work quickly, taking note that he changed positions to hold her in a flat palm even though the titan was moving over to the desk. Once she was truly knot-free the brush was returned hastily, as if it would burn her to hold it a second longer. "Thank you," she repeated clearly, voice still too sore to whisper.

"Request anything you prefer." His chassis throbbed happily and he returned her smile, optics softening their glow as they dilated to take her in. "I am not a clairvoyant, precious. Now, I have something else for you."

He unsubspaced all of the clothing he had been able to collect from Earth the "day" before, making a pile as large as her nest on the workspace. "Are those for me?" She regarded him hesitantly, interest manifesting in the way she leaned toward the cloths.

"Yes,  _my mate."_ Eleanor started to drag herself toward the heap only for him to snatch her up out of pity for her prone state and place her within easy reach. She rooted through the pile like a turbofox looking for Energon, completly forgetting about him.

It was as if he had simply uprooted a store - multiple pairs of the same item in different, sometimes duplicate sizes and the captive tried to directed thought elsewhere. She found several pairs of jeans and a thick sweater in her size and, not wanting to stay nude a second longer, tried to donn them. With her single hand she tugged on the jeans, only just able to get it over her casted leg and around her hips with a great deal of squirming.

The shirt was a little more problematic. Even with the sweater over her head and on her good arm, she could not manipulate her alien cast into the sleeve. Growing steadily self-conscious in the red of his eyes, Eleanor gave up and pulled the fabric down to cover her arm against her body.

"Are they warm enough?"

"Yes." She replied, trying to grow accustomed again to clothes. "Where did you get these?"

Still satisfied with his lie, he assured "There were some among your supplies."

"Oh." Eleanor opted not to think about it. She had the intuition that it wasn't a good idea. "Thank you."

"Of course."

* * *

" _The human equivalent of a transformation cog does not exist."_

Megatron raised an optic ridge at this. " _This is pertinent because?"_

All he ever seemed to encounter were problems. His army was unable to follow orders, Starscream was growing more suspicious and more bold by the cycle, more unfit slaves needed to be culled than predicted, not enough new slaves could be caught. The desk of his office was piled with datapads detailing each of them, half of them snapped. Additionally, his injured mate had lost all confidence and now she couldn't be cyberformed.

" _All Cybertronian systems have a human equivalent, which makes possible the process of cyberformation. The only exception is the t-cog. She will be fully functional, but without the ability to transform."_

He stood corrected, but yet the warlord was not elated at Shockwave's news. Circuitsia's alt mode hadn't been anything spectacular - statistically speaking - but would he want to deprive her of something so essential?  _Will it alienate her that she cannot transform?_

Eleanor shifted in her sleep in his lap, his servo petting her of its own accord. She was exhausted from her constant futile attempts to evade his touch earlier, and had just submitted to a peaceful nap. Shockwave had no knowledge of her presence, and neither had any of the mechs that had come in thus far. Proximity was important for human attraction and bonding, but image was also paramount for his own position.

" _Very well. You will continue."_  Shockwave dipped his helm and took his leave, allowing Megatron to look at the dozing human concealed in the darkness beneath his mapping table.  _She doesn't even remember that she was once able to transform. It is unlikely that she will care._

" _Rest and heal, my delicate creature."_  There was only a murmur that made his spark purr with affection as a datapad was plucked from his desk. For once it detailed a success - there were no signs of any Autobots in the rapidly-expanding territory of the Decepticon Empire.

He allowed Soundwave entrance a half-cycle later, scrutinizing the tiny female in his officer's grasp. To Eleanor's semi-conscious relief, his servo left her body alone and stopped its ministrations. He had been petting for seemingly hours, fear keeping her on the edge of consciousness. Exhausted, she allowed her brain to shut her body down.

This human had locks of gold, groomed to perfection, but the same skittish attitude Eleanor had. When set on the table, the female cowered in the same manner. However, the massive mech was not disappointed.

" _You are sure that she is a friend of my mate?"_

Grace quivered in place, refusing to look at the grey behemoth out of anger and fear. "Soundwave" was relatively kind to her, even after being her cassette player all these years, but she knew exactly who this titan was.

Every human did.

" _Affirmative_."

"Human," the monster suddenly addressed her. Grace stayed on her knees, head bowed, as she had been instructed. She prayed that she would not be squished, that she was doing nothing to offend him. President Sherman had never instilled such fear of punishment, nor had any other employer.

"Does this female look familiar to you?" Grace lifted her gaze from the strange material of the table to him, jaw falling open as a bundle was produced from nowhere and a familiar face, thought gone forever, was shown to her. Eleanor appeared to be in deep slumber, hair strewn about in the thick blankets. Grace could see that she was clean, an astonishing fact, and relatively well-groomed. She looked  _ **healthy**_.

"Yes, my Lord" she replied softly, spitting out the words Soundwave had drilled into her brain. The once-missing President was lowered back into his lap, the massive hand of humanity's enslaver making tiny strokes over her.

" _I will not require use of your female. It is imperative that she bonds with me as a prerequisite to all others."_

Megatron plucked her up carelessly, making the stylist yelp. He sensed Eleanor stirr at the cry. Between his thumb and fingers he held her, studying the female before looking back to Soundwave. The tiny fingers gripping the seam of his knuckle gave him an idea.

" _However, you may use her as you please_." Megatron flicked her from his servo with distaste, the slave making a squeak when she bounced on the table.  _Such small servos could clean or polish anywhere desired. "You are dismissed."_

He had no time for wasting on a human that was not his soon-to-be-mate.

Soundwave collected her calmly, dipping his helm with respect for his Commander as he exited the office. Concerned with the painful sound, once he was out of audio range he droned, "Query: Medical attention required?"

"No," She panted, wincing at the pain from her left side. "I'll be alright."  _You could have at least told me that he would throw me around._

 _But what about Eleanor?_  Was that sleep drug-induced? How else could she sleep in that menacing presence?  _Grace, you're missing the bigger questions. Why is she_ _ **alive**_ _? Why is she_ _ **here**_ _?_

* * *

On the walk from his office he took the quieter, albeit longer route to his quarters in the officers' wing. He would often cast glances to his tiny sleeping mate, cuddled against his chassis in her blankets. Eleanor looked almost like a sparkling as she curled up to his chest with her little frame, tiny chassis rising and falling to each minute breath.

Primus, she was so  _young_. Made of dust from stars that imploded during the War, eons before her race wallowed in the mud of Earth. He could scarcely name any of his parts that  _hadn't_  been made before organics crawled from their origins of non-sentience.

He typed in the code to his doors and stepped inside without so much as a thought, dwelling on his mate. Youth was always valued in a Carrier. Their sparks were strong, able to support sparklets without stuttering; her human heart beat with undeniable force whenever he measured it, even in her sleep. Their tanks produced the finest Energon for bitlets, though he had been disappointed to notice that her human equivalents were rather  _lacking_.

He set her down on the berth and dismounted his cannon before following her. Megatron had done his research on the needs of her body, and was not concerned with her ability to nourish their offspring. Her chassis would grow once he fed her back to her normal body weight and away from malnourishment. If needed, Shockwave would operate on her after cyberformation to enlarge her tanks. He may have wanted her to be able to feed their creations with her frame, but Sire wanted some of that sweet fluid as well. For that she needed ample storage in those tanks.

A spark-chilling cry came from beneath his servo, long and wailing. Had he crushed something when he was daydreaming? He quickly removed his servo to inspect his fragile mate, seeing nothing wrong to imminent relief. She thrashed like a trapped turbofox, twisting her blankets in a terrific mess. "Please!" she screamed, tears rolling out from beneath her closed eyes.

"I'll give you anything! Please! Just stop!"

Desperate pleas continued to stream from her mouth, his touches only making them worse. His spark railed against its casing, trying to protect its mate from herself. On an impulse he parted his chestplates, baring light that painted the room red.

Tendrils of energy immediately came forth, long and winding as they went immediately to her. Stroking away her tears as she sobbed and wandering over her face, there was no place left untouched. She stilled and Megatron could only watch with astonishment as she continued to be fondled by the tentacles of fiery light. Of all of the outcomes, this had not been the expected one.

Her hair was played with as her head was stroked, his spark passing calm to her. After a moment all noises were gone, even the faintest frenzied murmurs. Then, the tendrils brushed off her blankets and coiled around her, making as if to bring her back into his spark chamber.

The sleeping Eleanor wriggled in discomfort as they tightened their hold, like a python around a meal. The grip was going to suffocate her and mustering all of his willpower he snuffed the desire to trap her within himself.  _It is unknown what the energy will do to her._ He took hold of her and his spark retreated without its prey, defeated. Little red marks painted her skin where they had touched and she whined, grimacing.

Able to do nothing but hope she wasn't hurt, he covered her again and sent the order to recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life just keeps getting busier and busier for me. Sorry that this one is *squints at calendar* sixdays late, but I have a lot going on right now that should clear up enough for me to publish again at the end of May.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nanoklik - about 1 second
> 
> Cycle - 1 hour 15 minutes
> 
> Breem - 8.3 minutes
> 
> Astrosecond - 0.498 seconds
> 
> Mega-cycle - 93 hours (almost 4 days)
> 
> Deca-cycle - 3 weeks
> 
> Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
> 
> Solar cycle - 1 day

  _In the back of her throat sat a lump the size of a grapefruit. The whirlwind of unexpected alien invasion, complete devastation of New York, and the chilling call to her private, unlisted phone had left her exhausted and frazzled. And that was without considering the global emergency meeting called to plan a response. A nuke was sent, but even the plane carrying it was one of the enemy._

_The militaries were in shambles, that of the United States in the worst condition. All of the heads of state had been held captive by the stream of video showing them the destruction of their forces. She didn't have time to be angry that they decided to cow to the might of their enemy; suddenly, she was carrying the weight of representation of Earth's decision to surrender._

_To serve him their home, their planet, on a silver platter._

_She made the long walk from the briefing room, wherein the cowards on the screens had told her what she needed to do while they hid behind the illusion of distance._ Fools, there is no place that these fiends cannot reach.  _Her throat constantly closed around nothing, a hand touching her hair nervously with good reason. Megatron had demanded to speak to her and her alone - she couldn't venture a guess as to why. They had sent him one representative, a poor vice-president, only to see him crushed in a massive black fist followed by a demand for her visit._

_The entire world knew of their capabilities now, thanks to that footage combined with that of destruction across the globe. The Emperor could not be defeated even alone - without his army they would not even be able to shake him. There was nothing her guards could do should one of his party decide to attack her. She was at their complete mercy._

_They could only hope to sate his wishes, so that no harm would further come to them. She was all-too-aware that the leaders of toppled conquered civilisations were the first to meet their end._ Messengers also.  _A shudder shook her. What luck that she was both. Hopefully she would not meet her death in his fist, as had that poor man._

_She approached what used to be her office, Wilson setting a hand on her shoulder to reassure her of his presence. Two "men," emblazoned with the same purple symbol as the robots standing on the lawn, moved from their posts by the doors. A flash of silver was her only warning as cold metal was clapped across her wrists and clicked shut. She knew, as did the rest, that symbolism was never accidental. Their potent cocktail had a particularly violent visual, coppery scent, and bloody taste. She had hoped to never experience it again, but with each passing instant that wish drew farther away. With their helpless captive sufficiently restrained, she was led through the doors to her office._

_A man sat in front of the desk, dwarfing it with his height and breadth, his identity unmistakable. Two other men flanked him, one tall and silent and the other lanky with a devilish smirk. All were impeccably dressed._

" _Surrender does not necessitate suffering, Eleanor."_

 _Lord Megatron spread his legs to take up yet more space, as though his human body wasn't already large enough for him._ This is quite smaller, though, than his real form.  _She shuddered to remember looking up at their colossus of a conqueror, how tiny she had felt between those two enormous feet in his dark cold shadow. She would never understand why he hadn't just stepped on her, why his gaze had actually_  softened  _when it turned to her. That experience had fed much of her fear for today's meeting - why did he want_ her?

" _I know that a deal can be arranged, and I can tell that you prefer the direct route." The damned grapefruit wasn't moving. "There must be something that you want. I am sure that we can reach a conclusion in a timely manner."_

Please tell me there is, that you didn't attack without reason.

_He fixed her with a haunting look, reddish brown eyes holding a knowledge of he did not share. "Yes, there is something Earth can provide me." Her fingers started to quake, and she flexed them to mask her fear. There was no point to it but to maintain her pride._

" _The governments of Earth have become obsolete." His voice was a sinister purr, eyes darkening like a storm as they met her own. He folded his hands in his lap, cocking his head, "It is I who have conquered you, and it is I who will govern."_

_She opened her mouth to argue, but out came a plea. "We do not contest this. We merely wish to save our people from -"_

" _What is it that you think I will do?" His tone held a lilt of amusement that almost ruined her already-shaken nerves._

" _Our people fear you -"_

" _As they should." The lanky one laughed. He was silenced by a glare from Megatron himself._

" _\- and they wish to beg for your mercy."_

 _He chuckled, one corner of his mouth rising above the other in a smirk. Her skin crawled with nervousness and anger. "If you would please, Lord Megatron, make your demands."_ Make them before I fall apart.  _The atmosphere had become suffocating. Something was strange in the way he regarded her, something lighting up the area behind his eyes._

_The smirk never fell as he gestured to the two men at her sides. Immediately she was tugged down to her knees, hands clasping over her shoulders to keep her there. "First, define mercy." A massive, rough hand brushed her cheek, hot and burning. The thumb petted one of her cheekbones in a surprisingly gentle but nonetheless disturbing manner. She was too afraid to jerk her head away._

" _No more incidents like New York. No more widespread slaughter. We will do as you ask, in exchange for our lives to remain otherwise untouched."_ I'll give you anything! Please! Just stop!

_He tutted, drawling, "Humans obstruct my plans. Surely to eliminate or enslave humanity would be in my best interests, hmm?"_

_Alarm struck her. "Please, what are your demands?" She needed to control this better - on his point she could not defeat him, but_  deflect  _him. From an alien's perspective, it was more efficient it wipe out humanity._

" _Earth's fertility has yielded many resources for energy." The hand remained attached to her cheek, molesting the skin there. She couldn't think clearly with how it blazed. "I require those."_

" _What will we do without energy?" Despite herself, she was incredulous. "We need it!"_

" _You will find other energy." He leaned towards her and mused, "Or perhaps you will not. That is inconsequential to me." For a moment, there was no movement - she tried to swallow, but couldn't. Then, he sat back in the chair and removed his hand. "Regardless, without this deal I will take them anyway."_

" _Which begs the question, my Lord," the lanky one growled in an unpleasant voice, "Why is a deal being made in the first instance?"_

_Megatron quirked an eyebrow and regarded her again, eyes unrelentingly boring into hers, testing her resolution to the breaking point. "Perhaps Starscream, for once, has a point. We could eliminate populations from space if we desired. Within a year Earth could be stripped of her energy and humanity extinguished from existence."_

" _As a matter of fact," he stood from his chair, straightening his flawless suit jacket, and threw her into his shadow, "We could start now. Soundwave -"_

_She crumbled._

" _Please!"_

_Megatron narrowed his eyes and the hands started crushing her shoulders. A sound of discomfort left her, baring weakness for her despicable enemy. "It is unwise to interrupt but I will allow it once."_

_The pressure receded and she fought the urge to roll her shoulders to alleviate the pain. "It would be easier for you if we served you."_ God how I hate that word.  _Her eyes fell in a way she hoped appeared servile and respectful all while gritting her teeth._

" _I value my control." A hand steered her to look up at him, thumb stroking her cheek. He was stooped in order to reach her from his height, massive body leering closer. Then, he pulled her to her feet with disturbing ease. She was still shorter than him - probably much shorter - but the symbolism lifted her heart the most miniscule amount._

_Yet, the fact remained that he had skillfully stripped her and backed her into a diplomatic corner. With but one option to secure the safety of mankind, she offered her standing and position as tribute. "You may control them," bile flowed upwards from her stomach, sweet in comparison to her words, "through me."_

_Megatron removed his hand, straightening. "Your planet will meet its end beneath my heel, with or without human cooperation. However, perhaps I will…_  postpone  _armageddon."_

" _In exchange for energy."_

 _She didn't dare smile - it wasn't safe to do so yet. Against her will she fell, landing once again between his feet and under his shadow, threatened with being crushed by his might. "Thank you, my Lord," she praised with a leaden tongue._ That is what he is now, isn't he?

My Master.

 _His eyes flared red, certainly not a trick of the light, and his voice changed to become much louder and far deeper._ "Be satisfied, precious."

She started, a finger having pressed itself to her back in a gentle pet. Before her face was a lump of food, sitting on yet another digit. Guided by instinct she found his red eyes, the trigger for an overflow of fear from her dream to saturate her brain. A strangled squeak left her and she started thrashing though she knew it would do no good, tears welling up in an instant. Terror, frustration, and stress drew her into a hysterical fit which Megatron did not understand.

How could she go from such cute, mumbling slumber to this upon awakening? Was food not a pleasurable first sight?

"It is only food, precious."  _Do not be ridiculous._ Her eyes closed and she sobbed, her good arm trying to pull her up out of his closed fist. "It is alright here. I am not going to hurt something as special as you."

His spark stirred with  _guilt_ , of all things, when he saw the red evidence of his presence on her skin.

She stilled more out of exhaustion and pain than to listen, but the latter happened anyway. Red eyes glowed softly at her, within her reach as he had pulled her close. "You… say that an awful lot." Without a kerchief, she wiped her wet nose and face with the back of her hand.

"It is the truth." He assured, the sight of her terror tenderizing him. Within his chassis his spark begged for release.

"I'm sorry." She sighed, letting him reposition her into his hand. "I just -" Her lips shut and skin tinged red, eyes retreating from his optics.  _Embarrassment_.

"What is it?" The tone was gone, replaced again with cool reservation. "You will be living with me for the remainder of your lifespan, and it is best that you tell me the truth."

She bit her lip. He had a point - it was time she adapted. She had been the one to freak out without reason, to start crying out of nowhere.  _What has happened to me? How can I become so distraught and then so… normal again? Like now?_

"We get these things called 'dreams,' which can sometimes be pleasant and sometimes can be… the opposite."  _Just let go of your pride. You don't need it anymore._

"I understand." He set her back into her blankets, food forgotten. "If you wish to discuss, I will listen."

"That's not necessary, but thank you." The discontinuity between the Megatron that her dreams had reminded her of - the one that had flattened New York - and the Megatron that sat before her, offering company and discourse, was disturbing and unsettling on a level that she was not ready to explore.

"If you are sure." Megatron turned, intending to enter his washracks and remove the unwanted human food from his servo. It was clear that she didn't want to eat.

"You say that I will be here my entire life." Her nerves steeled themselves just enough to get her through, not possessing the strength to do more. "Is that true? I'm not going home again, am I?"

"Does that frighten you?" He turned again, happy to see her speaking again.

"Y-yes."  _Just let go._

Megatron did not reply, contemplating for a moment. "I recognize that your human instincts dictate that I am to be feared." He stooped to be level with her, slowly lowering a finger to her head as he soothed her. "I resemble a large predator, undoubtedly formidable to you." Eleanor, despite the oversimplification, nodded.  _Let go._

"However I do not intend to devour you,"  _not yet_ , "maim you, or otherwise. I repeat my promise that you will not be harmed. Alright?"

"...okay."

"Good girl. Now, in the future I may decide to revisit Earth and you will be taken with me should I choose to do so." Her eyes rose, sparkling with hope that made his spark purr.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

She might see Earth again! Her heart leapt with joy and her eyes went to the window, as if to look for her home among the stars. Eleanor didn't consider what she might find upon return, suddenly feeling not so alone. She would see them again. It was almost as if she had been lost at sea, adrift among the waves in an endless night, and had just now found the direction of land.

He nearly purred at her smallest flicker of a smile.

Megatron was gone when she had turned around, the door to what she had assumed to be a bathroom cycling shut. Wishing that she had taken the breakfast offered to her, Eleanor went back to her blankets and raised a hand to her face, wincing at the burning feeling there. What had happened to her?  _I need to get out of here._

 _And what was with that dream?_ With nothing else to do, she decided to pick it apart.

 _It was so…_ _ **demeaning**_ _. Is that really what it could have been like? If I had been forced to deal with this? Instead I am here, far away from making any decisions at all._ She frowned, agitating the burns.  _Really, I do nothing anymore. What is my purpose? Why am I here? How did I get here?_

 _In that dream I acted like a puppet. I had to give him what he wanted to protect my people but at the expense of autonomy and resources. At least that didn't actually happen - somehow this is less demeaning, less insulting. Was I sacrificed, like in the dream?_ Eleanor shivered, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't so. They wouldn't do that to her, would they?  _Even if it is so, at least without my position or my home I have nothing left to lose._

 _To be working for him instead of the public would have been humiliating beyond belief. In that other scenario, he could ask for ever-increasing amounts of resources and bleed me dry while I had no choice but to comply in order to save their lives. I am not a "puppet President" here, but in that case I would be. I have no one to protect here. The only one I have to save is_ _**me** _ _._

 _Perhaps there is a bright side, even though Earth may never be in my sight again._ She only hoped that her people were safe, that the Vice President was taking good care of them - there was nothing for her to do but pray for that small victory.

* * *

"It is time."

Eleanor looked up from her nest, bleary eyed and still sleepy. He wanted nothing to do but lull her back into sleep against his chassis, stroking her soft, strange fur while she recharged like a tired newspark. The thought was tempting, but so was the idea of seeing her healthy again. Being confined to her blankets or his servos was cute, but he wanted to see her trot around the floor of his habsuite - exploring as a healthy, happy, and trusting human would.

"Come here." A redundant statement, as Megatron plucked her up anyway. It was only when they were out the massive doors that she was finally awake.

"Time for what?" She called up to him. A finger petted her as he chuckled, and Eleanor didn't bother with shying away.

"I believe you are ready to have the casts removed."

"Oh." Eleanor shifted her gaze downwards. They hadn't even checked to make sure that the bones were healing properly.  _I won't be surprised if I can't walk again after this._ It would be just one more thing taken away from her.  _It's not like I use my legs anyway._

On a more startling note, had it really been  _that_ long since she had left Earth?

"They will not harm you, but you will need to remain quiet." Megatron pushed her tighter against his chest, signalling that the short conversation was over as he hid her from the other occupants of the  _Nemesis_.

Eleanor was set down on the same metal table with the same roughness as the last time. She gasped, the wind having been knocked out of her, only for her ears to be assaulted by the sound that was Megatron barking in that rough language of theirs.

Tons and tons of metal pounded the floor in a sound she knew better than her own footsteps. She moved her head to the side, seeing the same two robots as the last time come forward. The tray of tools held dangerous knives and sharp tweezers, points gleaming like fangs on a rabid wolf. Her eyes squeezed themselves shut. A whimper came free. She suddenly remembered her nakedness.

" _Are the segments ready for removal?"_ Although his face was impassive, Megatron was eagerly anticipating seeing his sparkmate walk again.

Scrapper scanned her, wondering how it was that the human was still alive - and in seemingly  _better_ condition. Megatron watched carefully, only averting his optics to the back of the medbay as Mixmaster snickered and Long Haul nodded in concession. Instantly both came to attention.

When he looked back down at his mate, she was crying silently. Hook sneered. Scrapper's EM field didn't react. Megatron did nothing.

" _They can be removed."_

" _Do as needed."_

Eleanor winced, eyes flashing open. A high-pitched whirring filling the air. She turned her head, reacting solely on instinct. The one with the mask-like face was holding a drill, so tiny yet so  _loud_. Instantly she looked the other way. What she expected to find was half-way gone, her plea dying in her throat.

Megatron knew he shouldn't have turned to look at her. Those grey organic eyes were wide, terrified. They called to him as if to say " _Rescue me!"_ His spark called back, but the Decepticon Lord kept going.  _Just once more, sweetling._

_Then you will never leave my sight again._

" _Mixmaster, bring the dose."_ The chemist, still high off of winning the bet with Long Haul, practically pranced up to Scrapper with the paralyzer. She saw the needle this time. Eleanor shut her eyes, knowing what was to come. Despite herself, she repeated Megatron's words to the beat of her pounding heart.  _They will not harm you. They will not harm you. They will not harm you._

In her panic, she didn't even stop to consider the fact that she trusted him. The needle went in and injected her with the mystery substance, numbness quickly following. She shut her eyes and mentally locked them, doing the same with her ears.

_This could take a while._

* * *

" _The muscle has weakened due to disuse."_

Megatron was frowning, a rare show of his true emotions. Eleanor was still paralyzed but she didn't have to be standing for him to notice the lack of  _anything_ around her leg - the same applied to her arm. Both were a thin that spoke of starvation (he had seen malnourished humans during the winter in mismanaged camps), though he knew that he fed her the correct amount. He knew muscles could shrink or grow, but completely  _vanish_? And her leg - it didn't seem to be healed correctly.

For once, the procedure didn't involve any pain. Once she had realized that the drill was not making its way through her flesh or bones, her mind had eased just a little. Instead of drilling holes in her body it had put cracks in the casts, making it easy for the robots to chip away the material. Even the bandage on her back, soft in contrast, went away without pain. They simply heated it with the same torch as the time before and peeled it away from her pink, scarred skin.

"Stand, human." Hook said sternly.

She jumped at the stern, growling voice. Even Megatron's, as gravelly as it could be, was more pleasant. Eleanor hesitantly tried to roll to her feet, feeling weak. Evidently she was too slow. The one without the mask snatched her up roughly, setting her on her legs impatiently. " **Stand**." The support of his hand went away and she teetered for a moment. Before she could catch herself her leg buckled and she was on the metal again with a loud  _smack_!

Megatron's frown deepened.

" _Very well_." The warlord returned to his habit of masking emotions - though his voice struck the audio as disappointed, his processor had already found Eleanor's condition to be in his favor. She would remain totally reliant on him for movement.

"?" She made a little sound, looking up at him imploringly. "?" His spark cooed but he snatched her carelessly from the table, dragging her before actually plucking her up into a fist. Appearances first and foremost.

" _All else appears normal_?"

" _Yes_ ," Scrapper affirmed as Hook nodded. " _It is now completely fine." You lie._

She squeaked as he tightened his grip, straining her ribcage. " **Quiet**." He growled at her, sneering. It was enough of a shock that she did as told, albeit wide eyed.

She was carried out and away from the dreadful place that way. For an instant she wondered if she did anything wrong - last time he had laid her flat after leaving, petting gently. Yet, as soon as they were back "home," he was making that odd grating sound deep in his throat and stroking her as she lay against his symbol. She leant into every touch, relieved beyond comprehension.

* * *

Megatron traded the datapad he had been reading for an Energon cube, pleased to see that the slave deaths were starting to drop in the North American sector. The winter had killed many of his workforce, and now that the weather was starting to warm again the worst seemed to be over - he would need to build better shelters for the next winter if he wanted to keep his slaves, but that was all that he needed.

Since he had implemented Soundwave's latest suggestion and established a regular schedule of feeding and grooming, his mate had relaxed. She didn't fight his touch as she used to, only whining when he went too near her pelvis or her chest. Eleanor went to sleep more quickly and rested more often - she was almost always asleep, especially since her bandages had been removed a deca-cycle ago. He took it to mean that she had adapted completely to living with him on board the  _Nemesis_  and was now fully relaxed, until he had taken note of her palor.

Megatron understood that humans varied in their skin tones, an observation that only an ignoramus would miss. He also understood his mate to be Caucasian, among the lighter skin tones. However over her first deca-cycle she grew pale, blue veins becoming more evident and more vivid. She became increasingly lethargic and slept in seemingly random intervals.

Hence, he provided her with ultraviolet light from a tool from Mixmaster so that she could produce her vitamins and readjust her circadian rhythm. The first time he had turned it on she had frozen, as if shocked, before closing her eyes and going completly lax. Eleanor currently was laid out beneath it on his private desk, surrounded by the folds of her nest as her skin harvested the light. She was such a strange creature with odd needs, which Eleanor never revealed to him. Just as she had never asked him for light, his mate never asked him for grooming supplies nor clothing. He had noted her timidity - though she needed far beyond what he had offered, the missing items were never requested. It was as if she feared his response to such a question, and thus he had had to surmise what she needed from human records and her appearance.

"Eleanor," he murmured, lightly stroking her bare side to get her attention. He would confess to denying her clothing - skin was much more pleasant, despite the raised, ugly scarring on her back. Instantly she was alert, regarding him with wide grey eyes. She slept lightly ever since Rumble and Frenzy had hurt her. "Always ask for what you need. Understand?"

"Yes." The former President whispered, wary. Why was he stating this now? "Thank you." She paused, considering. Over the months (she guessed it was that long) Megatron had not harmed her. Each promise was fulfilled and each touch remained gentle, invasive though they could be - especially through her menstruations. Eleanor wasn't deathly afraid of him anymore, but she still gave ample thought to her words and actions around him.  _He is, first and foremost, an alien. As human as he may act._ "Are you angry with me?"

He was quick to reassure his mate of the falseness of her question, "Of course not."

She accepted his answer, lying back down on her bedding. "Good."

Eleanor was intending to sleep again? This seemed unusual - all of his sources had dictated that humans needed only about 6 cycles of rest per human day. Why was she taking more than that?

Was she sick? Eleanor wasn't acting as though something was wrong. Her appearance had remained the same, besides the darkening of her skin due to light exposure.

"What is your reason for resting so often?"

 _The environment you have given me is dull and unstimulating. I'm constantly bored and there's nothing for me to do but fret about Earth, read_ Meditations  _again for the 10th time, or eat and drink._ But she could not say any of those things. The idea of telling those damned red eyes in that steely cold face, so unnervingly composed, made her pale. She could not insult the environment that he had given her, for though it was boring it was comfortable and safe. She could not cite her worry about Earth nor the book he had given her, lest that be insulting. Neither could she scorn eating and drinking as one of her few activities - the last thing she needed was for him to think that she didn't want those things.  _Even if I drink and eat from his used glasses like a dog._

"The truth is all I ask."  _I'm worried, sweetspark._

"There… isn't much else." Eleanor pulled her limbs close, hoping that her answer was satisfactory. "Besides exercise, anyway…"  _Maybe that would actually do me some good._

His response was a flat "I see." Megatron's glass was placed beside her, his eyes narrowing in thought. While Eleanor watched the Energon swirl and glow, he contemplated his options. "Your… book is not satisfactory? My company is not satisfactory?"

She wrenched her eyes away from his fuel, alarmed.  _I insulted him._

"I-its just that I've already read it." Eleanor didn't address his second question, a fact that Megatron did not miss.

The place where an eyebrow would have been rose, "What is your reason for not asking for another?" He knew exactly what her answer was going to be, and his processor was growing heated. Megatron could tell that his voice was conveying that.

Her eyes darted around, trying to find a response. "I-"

Eleanor would have expected what came next if she had spent more time on the bridge of the  _Nemesis,_ if she spent more time with the Megatron that the rest of the Decepticons knew. In less than a second he went from his relaxed, seated position to towering over her, red eyes burning. A hand grabbed her, grip tighter than usual. An instant later she was in front of his face, incredibly disoriented from the rapid ascent.

His voice had lowered, now a dangerous growl, "I have  _already_ told you, on  _multiple_ occasions, to ask for what you need." For emphasis he vigorously shook her back and forth, ignoring her screams. "What  _more_ must I tell you, Eleanor?"

When he stopped his mate's head was bowed, her entire frame tense. She sniffed, a wet sound, "I-I-I'm s-sorry."

"Now, is there anything you want to ask for?" She raised her eyes, full of fearful tears, mouth open as she gasped for air. She blinked quickly, nauseous. Eleanor had never expected him to do such a thing. He had rattled her brain, made her think for an instant that the force would break her neck. It was a potent reminder, one she wasn't going to forget.

"N-no."

"There will be consequences if that is not the truth." For a moment it was silent, and then she asked, "Please, d-don't shake m-me. It hu-hurts." As his anger fell, pity for his mate rose to meet it. He shouldn't have shaken her, and now that fear in those little eyes… What had he done?

For several moments the only sound there was was his harsh ventilations as he contemplated her expression and what to say to her. "I will not shake you again." He vowed softly, bringing her close to his chassis and petting. His spark strained to touch her, wrap her in its tendrils to reassure her.  _Do not regress, Eleanor. Do not relearn helplessness._ She was still stiff as ever, a sign of disbelief. Hesitantly he brought her up to his faceplates, Eleanor still gasping. "I promise."

"Ngh!" was the only sound she was capable of making as he pushed his cold "nose" against her bare skin. She was shoved up against his face, hands grabbing his bridge out of instinct. The purrs vibrated against her as he shifted, rubbing her mindfully.  _N-nuzzling?_

Unfortunately, the stimulation against her queasy stomach forced her to lose her breakfast. It was all she could do to roll away and avoid vomiting on his face. She whimpered and tensed, expecting another angry outburst. He rumbled and ventilated hot air over her, disturbing her mane, now worried about her. He set her down gently, remembering the original discussion. "And I will find something for your boredom. Alright?"

Eleanor nodded, still quite shaken but more calm. Her hands reached up to rub her neck, already starting to grow sore from the whiplash. She didn't know what to expect from him anymore.

"I will return soon," he whispered, stroking her back once. He glanced at the mess on the floor. "Do not concern yourself with that."

"Megatron," she called as he neared the door. The silver titan turned fully to face her, hard face impassive.

"Can I have some clothes too? P-please?"

* * *

" _You will leave, Barricade."_ The titan waited less than a breem and then departed his office, locking the door with the new code. It was habit for him to change it at random times.

Megatron tried to keep his business inside of his office and on the bridge. To maintain his control, his air of authority and power, he avoided calling his mechs to his habsuite. It was incredibly rare, especially since his organic mate had taken up residence with him. Thus Megatron could scarcely remember when he had last visited an officer in their own quarters. It went against his against the power balance between a Commander and his officers.

Soundwave knew who it was instantly his Master's pedefalls distinct anywhere. Before Megatron could even comm him, his door was open. " _Greetings, my liege."_

Soundwave could mask his EM field well and remain impartial in his tone, but Megatron recognized easily the confusion in his third's monotonous voice. Without so much as a request the Decepticon Lord stepped through the doorway and into the spacious quarters. He gave the room a cursory glance, noticing immediately the pile of blankets on the wide expanse of the console. His audios, well experienced with hearing the small sounds of a human, picked up upon the small squeak from somewhere beyond the main space.

" _I assume you have studied additional behaviour from the human."_ There were no formalities. The walk from his quarters to here - short due to the similar location on the same level - had been enough time for him to realize the seriousness of his treatment of Eleanor, both the shaking and her general situation. She was healthy and bored and needing a social bond. He knew enough about humans to know that they enjoyed games. In short, it was time for her to play.

" _Affirmative_." Soundwave was aware that he might have become  _too_ familiar with Grace, but she was such a sweet little thing, even smaller than his cassettes. Rumble and Frenzy even adored her.

" _Are you prepared to advise which recreational activities might be best for Eleanor?"_

Immediately Soundwave understood the reason for Megatron's visit - in fact, he had been pondering when his Commander would ask. From his experience with the cassettes he knew that some play was beneficial for trust. This method had worked well for Grace when he had relocated her in the Washington slave labor force. He remembered her from his time posing as her possession, remembered her gentle hands. She had come to him so malnourished and fearful that he couldn't help but take her in among the cassettes. Now, it was rare for her to be seen upset. By contrast he had only ever seen his Master's intended Queen engaging in one of two activities - sleeping or cowering from Megatron. Even for a human she seemed excessively jumpy, perhaps due to her experience with Rumble and Frenzy.

" _Yes, my liege. Tactile activity that requires touch would allow her to become more acquainted and less fearful with you."_

" _Show me."_ Megatron knew that the human female was here somewhere - if it worked, he wanted proof. He would not risk partaking in a game that would scare his mate instead of placate her.

Grace knew to hide whenever Soundwave had visitors in his apartment - he had ordered it himself, which is why she was astonished when he called her from her place. "Human: Report immediately." Without hesitation she came forward, carefully detaching herself from between Rumble and Frenzy and entering what she called the "living room."

 _Not him again. Not here._  She cast a helpless glance to Soundwave, who merely stared expectantly at her through his red visor. Grace gave Megatron a wide berth, stepping quickly to get behind Soundwave and struggling to keep the skirts where they were designed to be. She averted her eyes respectfully, thus missing the way that Megatron's optics narrowed at her dress. It was not malicious, but rather contemplative.

"Grace: hide." Although perplexed, she did as asked, scampering off in her costume to find a nook to crawl into.

Megatron slanted his gaze to Soundwave, " _That is not the customary dress for human females."_

" _It wears those cloths as part of a game with Rumble and Frenzy."_

Megatron quirked an optic ridge, cool as ever even as his processor turned over thoughts for Eleanor's soft human armor. " _What does this game require?"_ He did not miss the fact that the cassettes were playing "nice" with a human. Curious.

" _A montage of different combinations of clothing, my liege."_ Soundwave shifted, finally turning in the direction the female had run in and changing the subject. " _Since the human has hidden, it is now time for it to be found."_ The Communications Officer knew it would not be wise for Megatron to partake in that game with his mate yet.

The Decepticon Commander filed away the conversation and the costume. " _And when Eleanor is found?"_

" _She can hide again."_

* * *

Ben Wilson paced, unnerved as he stared out at the city in the dark. When was the last time he had seen Eleanor? Every time Megatron came back, he was deathly afraid that the titan would be cradling a body in those massive hands. Their silver captor rarely stopped by anymore - even when he did, it was brief and only to give him "food."

He wondered when he had had a vegetable last. If this was all the President was getting... that didn't bode well. Regardless, why was Megatron still bothering to feed him? He couldn't see a reason to keep him alive.

The former agent stared out among the buildings, shivering at the cold breeze that whistled through the ruins. Already he could see the beginning of spring in the sliver that was visible of the park - even in the crushed streets and ruined buildings he saw green.

With a suddenness that almost made him jump, a beam came from around the corner. Unfortunately it was not metaphorical and did not offer a solution. Interest piqued, he crept to remains of the exterior wall to watch.

Three bulky shadows stepped into the weak light of the crescent moon above them - they appeared to be in animated discourse.

"-aste of time! Your 'sources' are more bogus than gold coins in Queens!" The thinnest one argued in a male, haughty voice.

"Simmons, keep it down. And they are not 'bogus.'" Another male countered. "She was here. We know Megatron took her at the start." Wilson narrowed his eyes and immediately saw their camo tactical gear - complete with combat rifles, except for the lanky one.

The third chimed in. "Look around you, Simmons, and use your damned eyes." The first one - he presumed Simmons - reeled his head. "See those pits in the street? Those weren't made by stray dogs."

The same man seemed to look at the base of his building, making Wilson slink up against the wall. "And neither was that pile of trash." He had had no choice but to put them up. Wilson laid a hand on his gun, still in his holster - Megatron had not taken it, probably because it wasn't a threat. He may be outnumbered and outgunned, but he would protect himself if necessary and likely kill the ruffians in the process. He was not the head agent of Sherman's security detail without reason (even if he had failed to retrieve her from their captor).

"Lennox, cover me." Immediately one of them went behind one of the many mountains of rubble, dragging Simmons with him. Wilson cocked his head, noticing the distinctly trained manner in which Lennox retreated. Could it be…? He checked the aliens at his back, "sleeping" as they did. He had a feeling that they might have been dead - surely they had to refuel, right? Just like any other machine.  _Except they are not machines as we understand machines._

The still unnamed man treaded lightly to the foot of the building, gun held in a skilled grip, disappearing from the agent's view. Wilson waited, tensed like a panther ready to pounce. It was only when all three had started to move down the street that he revealed himself. Handgun primed, he strode to the edge and called, carefully as he could, "Halt!"

_Here's hoping._

The two with the training immediately lifted their weapons as they spun. Simmons lifted his hands in surrender. "Identify yourselves!"

"You go first." Lennox ordered. Wilson clenched his jaw, weight balanced on the balls of his feet.

"At ease, Lennox." Anonymous asserted, never taking his eyes away. Lennox lowered his gun but still held it at the ready, noticing that something was different about this man than the rest of the scavengers they had encountered. "I am former Master Sergeant Flavius Burns of the United States Marine Corps, and this is Captain William Lennox of the United States Army Rangers."

"Now will you tell us who you are?" Burns had his suspicions about the stranger.

Wilson studied them for a moment more, deciding that they were truthful. No ordinary civilian, criminal or not, could act as they had. These men were bona-fide military.

"Wilson, Secret Service Detail." Wilson shifted, still holding his gun. "What do you want with the President?" He was sure now that the robots were dead.  _He's too worried about his "mate" to properly imprison me. At least he's caring for her, evidently._

"We're on a rescue mission."

"You won't find her here." Wilson studied the front of the building, looking for a way down. He knew the suspects to look for, the characters that he shouldn't trust, and these men didn't fit that description. "Give me a moment."

Lennox turned to Burns as the man disappeared, both ignoring Simmons as he began to nervously babble. "Do you believe him?"

"I don't think he is lying about being trained, no." Burns kept his eyes upwards, "But if he is her Secret Service agent,  _where_ did the President go?"

* * *

"Time to walk, Eleanor."

She shivered at the feather-light touch of that finger gliding down her bare back. Since the casts were gone, Megatron was having her exercise. Eleanor wished she could say that it was torturous - such a flippant statement could no longer be made lightly. Such a sentence wasn't even true. It was hard work, rebuilding her muscles underneath the fat she had accrued after being stagnant so long, but Megatron had been almost… caring.

"I have a  _reward_ for your excellent behaviour. I will give it to you upon completion of your walk."

"What is it?" She flipped onto her back with interest.

He lowered himself, smiling in that eerie way of his; like his face wasn't meant to make that expression. "I promise that you will like it," the silver giant purred. " _However_ , you must walk thrice the complete perimeter of this desk."

Eleanor did as he asked, just as always, though she stopped often. "Yesterday" she had just managed to stumble across his desk, supported by his finger. And that was only once.

Yet not all difficulty could be attributed to her lack of muscle. Just as she had thought, her leg had not healed correctly. Its bent angle was only obvious when compared to the uninjured limb, but it still made it difficult for her to distribute her balance.

Splitting his attention between his datapad and his recuperating mate, Megatron was sure to keep an optic on her. She would not fall and hurt herself again - he needed to leave her on her own for some time, and he didn't want her to spend that time with Hook and Scrapper.

"T-there!" She gracelessly plopped to the surface of the desk, legs shaking uncontrollably. "C-can I have my gift now?" Megatron chuckled, proving her suspicions correct. He liked her immature chatter - or perhaps it was just her interaction that he liked.

"Impatience, little one? How unbecoming." His tone took a mocking lilt.

Never one for witty replies, she replied "I'm tired, okay?"

"Is that so? Perhaps I should have you walk  _ **more**_..."

The effect was immediate, inducing sheepishness in the way his mate bowed her helm. "T-that's fine."

"I was only jesting," he purred, tilting his helm as he smirked at her with only one corner of his intake. "Here is your gift."

Megatron did that odd reaching-into-thin-air motion and lowered his massive hand to her. "Try them."

Her smile wilted. "What…" Astonishment and then offence flashed across her face, acceptance finally settling.

"You don't like them."

"No!" she immediately shouted nervously, all-to-aware of how his eyes had become slits. An eyebrow quirked, and she danced again. "I should say that they aren't traditional," her fingers gripped one of the metal brassieres harshly, "but I do appreciate them." Eleanor hoped that she sounded convincing. "Just like everything else you do for me." _You will be living with me for the remainder of your lifespan, and it is best that you tell me the truth._ In actuality, it was best for her to lie.

The titan made a pleased sound, eyes returning to their normal, safe apertures. "Good. Try them."  _Why do you lie to me, little one? I will never hurt you._

She didn't have an excuse now. Legs still weak, she shakily got to her feet and tried to navigate the straps of the elaborate costume, hurriedly slipping on the odd purple skirt. She didn't know how to feel about the fact that both pieces fit her perfectly.

"There." Eleanor held out her arms, looking down at herself.  _This is disgusting and creepy._

"And do you like how it fits?" If his instructions had been followed and the measurements true, the Constructicons' creations should fit her seamlessly.

"Yes."  _You wanted clothes and he got you clothes._ She managed a small smile up at him, purring "Thank you."

Megatron lowered his head, leveling their gazes so that she was no longer under his hulking shadow. "They seem to suit you well." She couldn't ignore the way his gaze made her skin crawl. 

Eleanor turned her gaze down to her feet to hide her shame. Thinking it a positive shy reaction, he smiled briefly and sat back from her, standing to ready her supplies. She would have to go without bathing for a few days, but she needed drinking water and a good supply of food.

It was hard to miss movement from a several ton giant. "What are you doing?"

Megatron turned, smiling again at the way her head was cocked.  _Endearing._ "I will return to you soon." His slave camps were, unfortunately, not ready for her visit. Soon they would be, though. He reached to turn off her lamp, surprised when she didn't duck. Perhaps she was finally relaxing?

"Go to sleep." With nothing better to do, she did as told.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life hit me a couple times with a couple knock-out punches. Sorry that this is so late!


	7. Part Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanoklik - about 1 second
> 
> Cycle - 1 hour 15 minutes
> 
> Breem - 8.3 minutes
> 
> Astrosecond - 0.498 seconds
> 
> Mega-cycle - 93 hours (almost 4 days)
> 
> Deca-cycle - 3 weeks
> 
> Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
> 
> Solar cycle - 1 day

Was he alright?  _He's never been gone this long before._  Her worried eyes roved over her almost empty food and water dishes.  _What happens if he never comes back?_ She unconsciously frowned, eyes narrowing sorrowfully at the corners.

 _It must have been purposeful._ She frowned as she felt the back of her head - clumpy with grease.  _He's never let me eat on my own since… who knows how long. If he hadn't forseen an absence he wouldn't have left me with food and access to the powder room._

"If I'm alone any longer, I'm going to go insane." Her voice seemed deafening though it was lower than a whisper. The lights in the room didn't even buzz - they were absolutely silent. The walls must have been very thick, for she could only ever hear footsteps if she strained her ears. There was no humming of machinery behind the walls, no distant thrum of massive engines.

Due to the absence of the lamp light it was cold, likely just slightly warmer than the New York winter she had been forced to endure, the kind of chill that made her bones ache and sapped the strength from her. In a painstaking process that had involved plenty of ladders and balancing, she had moved all of her blankets, water, and food into the "bathroom" he had provided for her. Even in the small room, it was only slightly warmer because of her body heat.

In short, she was miserable. When she slept, there were no pleasant dreams - there were no dreams at all, save for the one that made her question how bad her life was at the moment.

 _Even though this was not his own office, he commanded it as though it was. Natural authority radiated off his human body. Disgust rose up in her throat to meet it._  Remember, you are being deceived.

If only my uncuffed wrists reflected the reality of the situation _,_   _she thought grimly, eyeing the two men at the corners of her vision, positioned like the guards they were. At least she wasn't forced to kneel as she had in the past, at eye-level with the shamefully expansive black groin of the costly silk pants of her, and Earth's, true master. The generals stayed motionless, almost at attention, as they studied her._  And why are  **they** here? What's so important that they all came  **this** time?

_She ignored them._

_Her jaw set sternly when a pair of large feet crossed themselves on her presidential desk. Her chair creaked as he leaned back in it, almost as if it was screaming in protest at its load._

" _Ah, welcome Eleanor."_ "President" no longer; I'm just another first name.

" _Megatron." The name barely got around her tongue, which had buried itself into her cheek._

_Something bright flashed through his eyes. The alien warlord had the nerve to tsk, finally removing his feet from the perfect surface. "It would be wise to remember which cards you hold, Eleanor."_

"Lord  _Megatron." was her reply, thick with bitter distaste._

_He laughed, finally standing from her chair. "There you are. I trust that you have my payment ready, my dear?" Her teeth ground down against each other._

" _We have already given you -" this was the part she had dreaded. But she - and Earth - held no choice, and she was afraid her tone conveyed that._

 _Just as he had had no qualms about crossing his feet on her desk, he had no qualms with interruption either. "But it is what you_  haven't  _given me, precious."_  Damn that cool charisma.

" _We have drained every last ounce for you. Every year you have come back, and every year your price has increased." Her voice rose in earnest, eyes unintentionally pleading, "The once-fertile Gulf has not one drop left to give, and neither does Texas nor California."_

 _His generals chuckled, amused at her plight. Megatron did not. "Even the Middle East has found that they are almost dry. Coal has been mined, but at its lowest amount in record history. As the representative of Earth, I ask that you reconsider."_  Don't make me beg. I can't do that again.

" _Why should I?" He leaned over her desk._

" _We… have nothing left to give you."_

" _Not good enough, and also false."_

" _Oil was our main source of energy."_

" _A fact you have made me aware of on countless occasions. I still see no convincing argument."_

" _Our people are ready to revolt against us." She hung on to her dwindling dignity with every last ounce of her strength. "Factories, farming equipment, homes and cars can no longer be powered and we were barely able to meet last year's quota, and you have increased your price yet again."_ I wasn't elected for this. I wasn't elected for this.

I was elected to serve my  _ **people**_ , not this  _ **monster**_ **.**

" _We cannot do this, Lord Megatron. We cannot pay you this year."_

_There was a pause in which he stared at her, face absolutely the same, as if he hadn't heard what she had just said. Or couldn't believe that she had given up so easily. "Soundwave," he spoke, the uniformed man beside him stiffening, at attention. "Check to be sure that the human tells the truth. Order a global scan."_

_His tone softened to silk and a devilish smirk showed the bright, white, pointed teeth of the right corner of his mouth. "But you would never lie to me, would you precious?" Eleanor swallowed, even though she had nothing to hide. She could guess at the consequences of misleading him. The malicious gleam grew all the brighter in the holographic eyes, sharp as a knife._

_The next minutes passed like an hour, slow because of the tension as the scan was run. The President's palms brushed themselves against the sides of her navy skirt. One of her generals behind her coughed. Wilson's gaze burned into her back - even if something happened, there was no way to stop these beings. "Soundwave" did not speak, but Megatron seemed to know the results of the scan._

" _Last year's will have been my last energy demand." Before she could even crack a smile in relief, the moment was over and he was coming around the desk._

_The men - who had led her into her own office - each grabbed an elbow, as if an unseen signal had come to pass. Alarmed she wrenched her eyes from their overlarge hands to Megatron's tall, broad form._

" _Megatron, what is the meaning of this?" Panic gave her voice a waver she wished was absent._

" _I didn't say that last year's would be my last demand at_  all _, Eleanor."_  You bastard. " _Earth was bountiful in energy, but she has more to give than that."_

" _What do you mean?" It was more of a whisper than anything. Megatron had never been so cryptic before._

" _Well, my troops have been cramped lately. They have had little opportunity to… exercise."_  Nonononono _. She knew_  exactly  _what that meant. He was going to rescind on the deal that had been made to prevent that very thing from happening again. After the ravaging of New York -_

"Please,  _anything but that." His officers chortled at her groveling plea._

_Megatron chuckled lightly, eyes like those of a wolf. "No? What else could this planet offer me?" It was as if he was trying to make her guess. A dark glimmer shone in his fake brown eyes, red the greatest undertone._

_She frantically grasped at straws, trying to find anything that would catch Megatron's eye. "I-I-" She felt like a cornered mouse in the shadow of an enormous cat._

_He walked back the way he had come, retaking a seat with smugness on his face. The muscles rippled underneath the sleeves of his crisp black jacket as the chair squeaked under the strain._

" _Earth has quite the assortment of fauna, yes?"_

_Incredulous, she replied "Yes."_

" _You should know by now that we despise organic life." He drummed his fingers on the arms of her poor chair, "However, some organics have surpassed their inherent grotesque forms to become... attractive. Beautiful, perhaps."_

_She was painfully aware that the generals had made her, instead of their Commander, the center of their unwavering attention. The two teenage boys on either side of Soundwave snickered. The urge to shuffle her feet in discomfort was stifled; her every twitch was being scrutinized. Her next words were meant to be disparaging, but fear flavored them with timidity._

" _Do you want a dog?"_

 _The boisterous laughter made her jump, nerves badly shaken at seeing all of them, Megatron included, with their heads tilted back like wolves._  I'm being toyed with _. She wiped her palms again, face burning, as Megatron stopped and raised a hand._

_In the immediate silence he ordered, "Thundercracker, Skywarp, bring her closer."_

_They practically dragged her around her desk to stand before the alien commander. He pushed back the leather chair to bring himself to tower over her. At the corner of her eye she saw Wilson stiffen and lean forward. Her generals did the same._

_She moved her eyes from the center of Megatron's expansive chest to his face, swallowing as she tilted her head back. "I don't understand what you allude to."_

" _Have I not been obvious?" He cocked his head as if at a loss. Her brows crinkled in confusion._

_The next instant she was thrown on the desk, Megatron's hands on either side of her head. "Have I not made myself clear?" She gasped lightly, the air having been whacked clear from her. Guns were drawn from the holsters of her generals, Wilson striding forward._

_His officers did the same in a terrifyingly unified fashion. Her heart clenched - they were outmatched. As solid as these images looked, they were just that - images, produced by much larger robotic lifeforms. Bullets would only work on a human body._

" _Then I will make my demand."_

 _Suddenly he was on her lips, bold and unyielding. Her hands pushed ineffectually at his chest. There was no tongue, but she could taste the potency of his power over her._  I wasn't elected for this I wasn't elected for this I wasn't elected for this!  _Her heart and her lips hurt at his strength._

_The kiss ended as she was effortlessly picked up in the broad arms, bridal style, body resembling a wet rag. "Shooting at us will be ineffective and only hurt the lady." He pecked her forehead and she failed to react, still in a daze. Her fingers drifted upwards to her lips, as if to verify that they were still there._

_Megatron strode across the room, unaffected by her weight, and to the door. Her generals parted for him helplessly and though she wanted to scream at them for their treason, she knew it to be futile. Megatron's officers followed behind him and stopped when he stopped as the warlord appeared to consider._

" _In one year, I expect to find_ _ **triple**_   _the amount of oil and coal I was due_  this  _year."_

_Jaws tightened, gasps emerged, and eyes widened. They couldn't do it, and they knew that they couldn't. If they weren't begging at his feet now, they would be soon. "Refrain from attempting to deceive me in the future."_

They  **lied**  to me.

_Then to her he whispered, "Though I already have my true prize."_

_It was all too much to digest._

_Wilson stepped to the front, hackles raised higher than she had ever seen them. "Put the President down."_ They had oil the entire time.  _Playing the part of supportive audience as they had the entire meeting, Megatron's generals shared a few guffaws. She tried to roll out of his arms, but to no avail. Instead, she was thrown over his shoulder like an unneeded coat. Her face burned with a potent mixture of angry and embarrassed reds._

" _Skywarp, Thundercracker," Megatron ordered, "I believe I will increase my price for today. Snatch her pet."_

_There was shuffling of feet and some shouting, then a few grunts. She kicked a few times, trying to dislodge his grip on her. The arm over her thighs squeezed with inhuman strength, surprise making her stop._

_Without another word Megatron left, allowing her the view of Wilson sitting on the ground and panting, two men over him hoisting him up with inhuman speed. His eyes met hers and conveyed their emotional message._

Danger _. Not that she needed him to tell her that._

_The rest of her generals didn't bother trying to stop him. They knew the price of military engagement with their overlords. As much as she hated to admit that that was what they were, she could not kid herself._

A rose by any other name still possesses thorns.

" _Megatron," She pleaded as she swung with his stride, not expecting a reply. Instead the ceiling zipped backwards through her vision and she was found gently cradled once again in his arms, in the company of a self-satisfied smirk._

" _It's going to be alright, and no one will dare hurt you. You'll like the_ Nemesis _, precious. I have a room prepared for you with your necessities."_

He planned for this.

_Her brows crinkled as the words said did not match the movement of his lips nor the smirk that preceded, and then the dream popped from the eye of her mind like a television shutting off._

The unsettling images lurked beneath the surface like sharks on the prowl and prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. She shivered, but it did not help the discomfort. As often as she had dismissed the meaning of the dream, it still came back to haunt her.

She hated that dream - actually, she hated the  _meaning_  of that dream. Eleanor couldn't hide the fact that the bathroom was very  _permanently_  here just hours after Megatron had brought her onto this ship - she avoided calling it the  _Nemesis,_ since the name made her feel as though something was off about all of… whatever  _this_  was - but she didn't think Frenzy and Rumble had been made to hurt her. That was an accident.

Her stomach growled. She shook her head, rubbing her belly to calm it down. The sound of pumping blood filled the void in her ears as she moved her hands from her middle to her limbs, stimulating the skin to keep it warm. Her mind was blank, kept that way so that she would not direct her thoughts to how she currently felt. Or, by extension, how she felt when Megatron was present.

The blankets were pulled tighter and she waited for her heartbeat to come down - until she realized it wasn't her heartbeat at all. Someone was out there, in the apartment. Her guard rose, taking anger along with it as her lips set in a firm line.  _I need to hide. I'll never make it out there unseen - they'll see the doors open. I need to hide in his bathroom somewhere._

She bit her lip - all she knew was the antechamber with the sink and countertop her bathroom was upon. There were cabinets on the opposite wall along with another door that led to an unknown room. This was definitely not-

"Eleanor?"

Instantly the cold and the hunger were forgotten. She climbed down the ladder quickly as that unmistakable voice called again, "Eleanor?" running as best she could to the doors which opened automatically, sensitive even to her tiny weight.

The President skidded to a halt. The greeting smile froze on her face. This was a fact that she never should have, but nonetheless had, forgotten. Her captor was  _huge_.

A gasp left her without any thought, chest constricting and eyes widening with awe. Never before had she seen him from this angle, and it reminded her of just how  _massive_ her captor was. The shadow she was standing in grew colder and colder as Eleanor studied him from between his enormous feet. "Precious?" he rumbled, head completely eclipsing the overhead light.

The only reply she had was a choked "Hi."

He was a moving skyscraper, the floor shaking with each miniscule yet colossal movement. Megatron stooped to pick her up, an action he had done thousands of times before but now held new fear. His purr echoed in her ears, booming like an avalanche. How could she have forgotten how  _enormous_ he was?

A stroke shook her out of her trance, although only metaphorically. He was as gentle as he had ever been, titanic fingers mindful of her soft flesh and brittle bone. Swept up in a wave of relief Eleanor smiled a true smile. Megatron grinned back at her, elated at such an unexpected reaction. Soundwave, still unnoticed by the door, watched the interaction with an analytical visor.

Her little servos reached for him and the warlord cooed, moving her so that she was cradled against his insignia. Recently sanitized fingers almost completely hid her from view.

" _What is your appraisal?"_

Soundwave responded dutifully. " _The human reacted joyously to your return. It appears as though she missed you."_

Eleanor hummed a strange happy sound, similar to a chirp, and pushed herself into his petting. He hadn't thought humans made a sound to signal happiness - the warlord had never seen her happy. Her back arched pleasantly, complimenting the movement of his digits, whose black metal made her think of food, warmth, and safety.

" _She was afraid before."_ Megatron did not doubt Soundwave's judgement, but he was perplexed. He had been absent for a mere mega-cycle.

" _The human has become dependent on your attention. Without contact with other members of a herd, she has formed a strong bond with you as her sole companion."_

She was still beaming, happy beyond belief. Her worry had completely fallen away.

" _The female has accepted you into her tribe."_

Megatron continued to pet her, focusing on just her head now. Her spark purred at the way she closed her eyes with pleasure at his touch, a tiny hand wrapped over the side of his thumb. She was unconcerned with Soundwave and completely enraptured with him. It was far from the first time he had seen her, when that little frame had cowered away from him in a whimpering and crying mess. " _What significance does this have?"_

" _She will become more trusting and vocal with you. It is likely that, if humans or others are re-introduced to her, she will remain dependent on and prefer you."_

There was one way to test Soundwave's theory - but only after she had had her bath.

* * *

" _Apologize."_

The word wasn't in the cassettes' vocabulary; it was not an entry within the Decepticons'  _Register of Terminology_. Rumble, Frenzy and Ravage simply stared at him, the latter with his head cocked. Soundwave didn't ask what had happened during their time with Tarn, but it was clear that they had not been "conditioned" to make amends with the human that had been damaged. Soundwave allowed his vents to open to accommodate a particularly long ventilation as he glanced at the plain but intimidating door of the Commander's office.

Situated comfortably on his lap, Eleanor burrowed into her blankets and grumbled as he poked at her. Here it was always warm and always easy to sleep, once she got over the strong scent of chlorine-gasoline that permeated the area over his legs. "Arise. Now." With a petulant scowl she sat up, rewarded as his fingers retreated.

" _Enter."_ Megatron responded at the sound of the buzzer. He had been sure to take the necessary precautions, including research on what humans could do when reintroduced to their assailants. He expected fear.

" _Place them here."_ The symbiotes obeyed quickly. They knew the reason for their visit. Under the desk, Eleanor clambered into his servo. His plating shivered. As often as he held his mate in his lap above his modesty plates she always managed to arouse him.

Without a word he brusquely placed his Queen onto the desk. She blinked quickly, adjusting to the light as she looked at him. He directed her with his optics to turn her gaze.

The woman glanced behind her nonchalantly only to freeze. All four sights locked onto her every movement - or lack thereof. Rumble moved first, slowly with his servos up, to approach her. He was behaving just as he had with the newly-regained Grace, Soundwave noticed, when his own chosen pet had been brought onto the  _Nemesis_. "I-"

"G-go away!" She snarled. Her pede had come back.  _She's ready to run._ Rumble followed her steps that took her back into his servo, each accompanied by a thousand pleas from Eleanor not to hurt her.

"P-please-"

"Haven't y-you done e-enough?"

"I-I won't do it again!"

Each helpless cry reminded him of how fragile her tiny processor was. At any time he could snap it as easily as one of her delicate little limbs. Now she was happy, sweet and trusting with him. She slept contentedly on his chassis, above the spark that was destined to claim her as its mate. But at any moment that could change.

Her entire behaviour transformed upon her return to the center of his palm. Eleanor appeared to malfunction. Her eyes started to glisten, at the same time alight with something primal. The female's back arched as she brought her legs under her and animalistically bared harmless teeth at the cassettes, even as her breath hitched and tears fell. She remembered them all too well - her back, leg and arm  _ached_  at the recollection.

"You wouldn't  _dare_."

But she also remembered how huge her protector was.

Megatron noticed the resolve in her voice, the straightness of her back. She was courageous once more - but only since she was within his reach. Eleanor trusted him.

Without another thought, he intervened with his empty servo. A firm, unyielding black hand separated Eleanor from Rumble and the rest of the cassettes, who had moved to follow their sibling.

"Let them finish, Eleanor." Aghast, she opened her mouth to argue. " **Listen**."

Her jaw clicked shut compliantly.

"I am sorry, ma'am." Rumble finished, Frenzy echoing absently and Ravage nodding in agreement.

"Ha!" Eleanor growled.

"We mean it." By the rough sound Frenzy was gritting his denta.

"Oh really? The same as how you meant to hurt me?" She snapped at him. Megatron had only ever seen this side of her once before, mild compared to this.

The cassettes had no reply. "I don't accept your apology."

"Please-" Rumble offered. He didn't want to go back to Tarm again! Neither him nor his brothers knew what would happen if Megatron's pet refused their apology. The rage that they had experienced was usually reserved for Starscream.

"Cassettes: sincere." Soundwave interrupted, having expected this reaction but not the intensity of her bitterness. Like his symbiotes he was anxious to please Megatron and regain some of his lost favor. What Eleanor said next caused a myriad of expressions within the office of the warlord.

"I don't belong to you!"

Rumble and Frenzy tilted their helms. Ravage simply stared, EM field flashing curiosity before being retracted. Soundwave didn't contest but looked to his Commander. Seen by all except Eleanor was the way Megatron smirked with one corner of his mouth, both surprised and proud. His digits slightly curled up in a burst of possessiveness.

"This is ludicrous. You have already hurt me once - you don't need to  _insult_  my intelligence!" She pointed a finger at Soundwave and amended, "And stop talking to me like I am an idiot you  _pathetic,_ thoughtless  _jackass_!"

"That's enough." Megatron covered his furious mate with his other servo, bringing her to his chassis. "You've clearly excited yourself." Immediately she quieted and pushed herself into his touch, as if begging for comfort and reassurance. Then to Soundwave he addressed " _You are dismissed."_

_I have what I need._

The cassettes all appeared ashamed but Megatron did not entertain for a second the idea that it was for the injury caused to Eleanor. No, it was for him. Tarn had taught them to apologize to their Master, not their victim. Long after his lieutenant left the warlord remained seated with the human gently sandwiched in his large servos, contemplating the effectiveness of the apology.

It had been outright rejected, but did she appreciate the gesture at the least? For himself it was a mere power play and vengeance for his mate - any Decepticon worth their plating was loathe to make amends, especially to a lesser being, and the symbiotes were no exception to this rule. For Eleanor it was meant to be a gesture of affection and protection, an action to symbolize her worth.

Once released she settled back into her blankets as though it had never happened. Still Megatron kept a servo beside her as he quietly resumed his work, stroking her at odd intervals. Time would reveal to him the answer and, although he was not a patient mech, he would wait.

If she ever showed such disrespectful rebelliousness toward him, however, there would be consequences.

* * *

His Lord had returned angry from his visit to Earth. Evidently the human's "guard" had escaped his confines. Megatron had found no sign of it but had seen the offlined frames of the drones tasked with keeping it there.

Though he had never been beaten by his Master, Soundwave had avoided him since the morning briefing. Grace had been tucked into his tapedeck, where she liked to watch through the glass with the rest of the cassettes - when Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw would let her see, anyway. In both Control and his habsuite it was habit for the arial mechs to tuck her under their wings and preen her already-smooth mane.

Now, with the two birds on assignment, Grace was comfortably nestled in her blankets on a ledge of his console. Soundwave would stroke her intermittently, servo finding her while his optics remained focused on his work. The banter of officers and soldiers alike filtered through the audio streams; many of them were angry, furious exclamations from typical brawls. To Grace it was all normal - peaceful, actually.  _How does he listen to all of those things at once?_

She chirped, a once-accidental sound turned habit as he petted her once over her head. Maybe it was a primitive method to keep the woman sane, but though she could not see she knew he smiled behind his mask. "Is Eleanor up there?" She couldn't see all the screens.

"Your friend: in Lord Megatron's quarters." She had given up on trying to make him speak to her correctly and ignored it. There were a few rooms on the ship that were not under surveillance that was connected to this system - that monster's lair was one of them. Grace didn't know whether Soundwave had access to that circuit or not. He wouldn't say.

"Hey, when do we go home?" She didn't mind being up here so much. He was very good to her, and it was far better than when she was a slave. Soundwave even took her to visit Earth sometimes, leaving one of the boys with her when he left to attend to his duties as third-in-command.

Why wasn't he  _second_ -in-command? He was better than Starscream. She smirked at the thought. Grace remembered making a pun once that actually drew an alien laugh from him - well, static, but still.

"Duties: -" She had to cover her ears as loud high-pitch screeching nearly blew her eardrums.

On the monitor right behind her she could see Megatron tensing on his throne on the bridge, before him Starscream doing what he did best: screaming. Soundwave didn't say anymore, fixed on the scene. Grace knew what was going to happen, she had seen it many gruesome times before, but she couldn't look away. The screen imprisoned her in the same way chains once had.

"What are they saying?" She shouted unnecessarily , unable to hear herself with her hands clapped over her ears. Soundwave would be able to hear her whispers over the noise of Rumble and Frenzy - she didn't ever need to yell.

He petted her once. A message to be quiet.

" _You didn't kill it,_ did  _you?"_ Starscream snapped. His wings were high in the air with impetuous indignation.  _Or perhaps not._

Starscream's plans always reeked, the odor of curdled energon and his schemes indistinguishable. On this occasion the stench was overpowering. " _You're a fool, Starscream."_

The guard had run off - there was no evidence of its expiration in its nest. As much as Megatron hated to admit it, he had lost his guide. The news was like waves of human ammunition - an unshakeable irritant, but nothing to warrant concern. It was fortunate that Eleanor was growing quite comfortable with him and no assistance was needed to correct her behaviour.

Nevertheless, Starscream was clearly trying to force him into admitting that Eleanor was alive. She was the center of this circular conversation - a tool to usurp him.

" _ **I'm**_   _the fool here? How dare -"_ Unfortunately for the rebellious Seeker, Megatron had little patience for anything that was not battle planing or Eleanor. The lieutenant shrieked like a klaxon when not a moment later his commander had leapt from his place and crushed a wing tip in a servo.

Grace whimpered, face screwing up in pain at the ringing. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in that room with them!

Megatron twisted his wrist outwards, forming a tear in the wing. Immediately energon welled in the wound. Yet Starscream still pushed. The red once-prince knew that he had his chance. Not even his cowardice could convince him to retreat.

" _The human has been taken care of."_ The former gladiator's voice was low in his last warning. " _This is not a matter that concerns you."_ For emphasis he tweaked a little more, liking the resulting squeal of metal. Starscream yelped - a pleasant, but easy, bonus.

" _Oh, this doesn't concern me?"_ Starscream panted, not dropping his gaze in the slightest. Megatron's fists tightened but the Seeker pushed. " _It isn't my concern that you harbored a human and betrayed the Decepticon cause?"_ He attempted to twist and aim a punch to his leader's equilibrium sensors, but the attempt was masterfully parried.

" _Starscream!"_ Megatron barked, grabbing the other wing and wrenching it clean off the hinge, " _You insolent ignoramus! You can't tell your bolts from your plates, and you deign to accuse_ _ **me**_ _of treason?"_ The other mechs were watching. Normally this was not cause for worry, but Megatron did not fail to see that there were some whispers amongst them. Thundercracker and Skywarp were tripping warnings in his processor.

He would not give Starscream his victory. Lifting the Seeker by the shoulders and allowing him to dangle, Megatron snarled " _It is not I that follows the cause only to leave it at the nanoklik I decide that my goals are elsewhere. It is not I that views the Decepticons as a badge."_

" _This is why you will never be leader, Starscream. You have no backbone, no sense of bravery. If you fight me, which you will, remember this. You will always end in the same position -"_

 _Why doesn't he fight back?_ Grace flinched when the battered jet was thrown onto the floor like a sack of potatoes.  _Yeah, not sure fighting back would be a good idea. He's just as helpless around Megatron as everyone else, even the humans._

"-  _under my pede."_ She gained her senses in time to turn away as Megatron stamped his foot on Starscream's head. The clanging was like nothing she had ever heard. A screech that denoted agnony almost tugged at her heartstrings.

" _Now leave my sight,"_ Megatron delivered a swift kick into the jet's side, cracking the cockpit glass, " _like the worthless drone you are."_

Hate seared the Second's optics. Megatron huffed and turned back to his throne. " _Continue your work!"_ The order was followed, but more slowly than he would have liked.

" _Starscream! Do I need to tell you again?"_

" _No,"_ the lieutenant hissed. " _You have given me your last beating, slag-heap."_ Megatron narrowed his optics at the mess of a mech at the foot of his dais. Evidently that was the signal.

Skywarp and Thundercracker pounced. In a flash of purple Starscream was gone, his last insult lost to the  _crack!_  of teleportation. Botched, as always.

" _Anyone else care to join them?"_ Megatron snarled. This time he was more quickly obeyed.

He spoke to Soundwave, understanding Starscream's plan. They were all so alike that they could barely be distinguished by the most insignificant of details. " _Send out a warning across the communication networks."_

Grace heard Soundwave talking to someone and waited patiently for him to finish. "What happened?"

"Worry: not necessary."

Grace nodded, rolling her eyes. "Sure. Whatever you say, 'boss.'" She air-quoted the name that the cassettes had given her radio. Her intuition told her that Soundwave like it, especially when she teased him. She had a feeling that the affection the player had for her wasn't totally chaste - there had been too many strange, unexplained gifts left to her, even a bouquet of poison ivy that she suspected was seen as flowers.

By such strict logical rules, she supposed that it could be seen as the same. Still cute, though.

"Correction: 'Boss' reference to Lord Megatron."

"You can't take a joke, can you?" There was no reply so she refocused her mind. "Seriously, what happened?"

The less Grace knew, the safer she was. "Repeat: Worry: not necessary."

* * *

Since the odd encounter with Soundwave - she couldn't quite wrap her head around that, and had long since given up trying - life had gone back to normal in all aspects except one: her behaviour.

Shortly after she realized that she didn't want to leave this life yet, Eleanor had learned quickly that acting cute paid off. She had no idea how long this would last or how it would end, but she didn't want to be thrown away like a simple toy owned by a spoiled child. As a space Emperor, she imagined Megatron had plenty of potential pets at his disposal - and she didn't want to become the goldfish of the selection.

She didn't want to be abandoned like a dog that had lost its novelty along with its puppyhood.

Eleanor crawled towards her blankets, having already done her customary head-cock and charming him. Megatron purred, sounding like rolling thunder.

In a flash he had lowered his helm to be closer to her body. She jumped at the sudden presence. With unabashed amusement, he nudged her moving form with his nasal plating. Eleanor squeaked, nearly thrown on her side by the power of his simple nuzzle.

Encouraged by her reaction he did it again. This time she rolled, squealing, and he promptly commenced attacking her belly. Tempted though he was to start kissing her flesh, the softness repeatedly rubbing against him as she wriggled underneath his plating, instead he remembered her gift.

"Look at how good you are to me." The comment took her by surprise and she stopped moving in response. Her grey eyes blinked. "You never complain. I think you deserve a reward." Something not like a smile but not quite a smirk greeted her, finger under her chin forcing her look up at him. Another petted her shaking belly lazily.

"Do you like these?" She gasped her breaths, exhausted from acting "cutely" to maintain her life. Eleanor was unsure about the box, narrowing her eyes and deviating from her act. His words were unsettling, to say the least. Remembering his "present" of a "Slave Leia" costume, she tempered her enthusiasm.

"Open them." He set the tiny container in the now-disorganized nest, eagerly awaiting her reaction. She opened it carefully, and for once genuine pleasure lit up her face.  _Chocolate_!

Faced with the sight of something so sweet after weeks and weeks of nothing but bitter, gritty muck she didn't hesitate. One was plucked up none-too-daintily and placed on her tongue, sucking on it and melting it in her mouth, savoring the fruit filling. Only once had she gotten candy before from him and it was far too long ago.

She didn't jump when he purred. As long as Megatron was enraptured by her, she was going to live. Besides, he took good care of her. Since Rumble and Frenzy, she hadn't felt pain, hunger, or thirst. But even after months spent with him, she was still wary. He had yet to explain what he wanted with her - a fact yet to be forgotten, along with the not-so-distant memory of his brain-liquifying throttling.

As she ate the chocolates - the product of a specialty slave - Megatron sat back in his chair, unsubspacing a datapad to check the progress on his palace. Shockwave was nearing completion on his project, but he was loathe to cyberform and crown his Queen when he did not have a home to present her. She, just like any other female, would want to inspect the place where her brood would be sparked and raised. This was an instinct that he could not change but could use to his advantage, similar to human mating preferences. (From Soundwave's advice and his own research, the bigger a human male was, the more females desired it. Just like any other sane organic, she had feared him because of his size. As soon as he had shown that his size was positive, however, she had learned to like it.)

A noisy smacking drew his attention back from his thoughts. A pink tongue licked over likewise pink lips, similar to a pleased Turbo Fox after a large meal. His spark purred at the fact that she still liked them so much. He had given them to her before to celebrate the humans' romance holiday and he had been concerned that she would be bored with the gift.

After a moment of watching him she turned to fix her blankets, tossing aside the empty box. He hoped she didn't make herself ill.

"Stop." Immediately bright, shiny grey pools returned to him. "Do not recharge yet. Let us play a game."

Her head jerked back. "Like what?"

He smiled at her eagerness and her confidence.  _All the better for Cyberformation._  "You hide and I will find."

Eleanor blinked. "You want to play… hide and seek?" This wasn't the weirdest thing to do. Hell, it was  _something_  to do. Even reading got boring if that was all there was. She rubbed her arm, frowning further when she felt the unmistakable outline of muscle.  _When did that get there?_ "I-I guess I could play. It's been awhile, though…"

No sooner had her concession left her mouth than his hand had snatched her up and set her down on the ground between his legs. With the light behind him and red eyes shining down, he resembled a demon. A king of demons.

To distract herself she blurted "What about after that?" Megatron raised a ridge, taken off guard.

"We will play a different game."

* * *

As a result of their games Eleanor was familiar with the design of his habsuite. When he returned from his office or Earth she was often hiding in the small space behind the datapads on the lowest shelves, curled up with her reading material on the tiny datapad he had given her. Half of those times she was sleeping in a little ball when he found her, resembling a glitchmouse in her nest. In this position it took little effort to picture a few bitlets nestled against her belly.

She was more interactive since she was now sure of her surroundings and allowed to trot freely on the floor. Questions were frequent. Comments disappointingly less so. Thus, ever one to push the envelope, Megatron took the next step. Even after the months and months that she had spent living here with him, there was a place that Eleanor had yet to see. Long after his unexplained absence she still had yet to set her eyes upon what lay behind that mystery door. As soon as she did she wanted to leave.

Sweat poured out of every pore on her body, her skirt clinging to her legs. Her muscles locked up from temperature shock.

 _She forgot warmth. Just as she had forgotten light._ "Hush,  _sweetling._ "  _I'll take you in here with me in the future._ He rubbed her soft tissues delicately in an attempt to loosen them. It worked well, his mate loose by the time the silver warlord had retrieved some polishing supplies and cloths - even one small enough to fit in her hand.

The room was plain, the same as the main space. A small cubicle cowered in a corner, the large tub in the center glowed with light. It was bubbling lowly with a thick yellowish substance that, in the dark of the room, resembled a large pot of soup. Her mouth watered - she missed soup. Cream of mushroom was her favorite.

She screeched as he easily stepped over the edge - which was many stories tall - and settled himself in the boiling liquid. "I have you. You're alright." Once she had realised that nothing was going to happen and that her body was accustomed to the sauna-like heat, Eleanor sat back against his chest and closed her eyes. Her mouth was open as she panted.

Megatron gave both her and himself some time to adjust, allowing the specialized oil seep into his joints to lubricate them. Then Eleanor was put off to the side as he set about his own maintenance - such baths were rare but he decided not to perform the same amount of care on this occasion. Instead, he would use the time to bond with his resident human.

Eleanor watched, transfixed, as he worked his fingers into all of his gaps, as if he were testing them. This went on for several minutes that passed quickly in her warped sense of time, after which he snatched her up again in a still-wet hand.

It was hard to be mad, though, when it was so  _gentle_.

She was lifted to be level with his expansive face. Not sure what was expected Eleanor stayed still. "Take this." Perplexed she regarded the cloth and the black, strong-scented substance coating it. Megatron emitted a low chuckle deep in his vocalizer at her confusion. "It is polish, Eleanor. Coat my armor with it and rub until it shines."

In one of her less-than-proud moments, Eleanor lowered her eyebrows. "Where?" A louder chuckle and an odd sparkle in his coalfire red eyes were the effect. Her face burned as she shook off the feeling of deja-vu relating to the dreams.

"My faceplates." Megatron shuttered his optics - one of fate's rare shows of mercy - and leaned forward.

Anxious and weary, Eleanor slowly placed a hand on his cheek and found the metal warm like the rest of him. Not wasting an instant she started to apply the stuff to his face in small, gentle circles.  _The sooner I am done the better._ "You are not able to harm me,  _sweetspark._  Push as hard as you like."

"Uh… okay. Like this?"

The resulting sigh of pleasure almost blew her over. She would have if a finger from his other hand hadn't steadied her so carefully. "Yes." Half of his face was done in silence before Eleanor decided to ask him a question she had been pondering for some time - especially since the dreams had started plaguing her.

"What does that word mean? The one at the end of most of your orders?"

Under his armor he bristled at the use of the word  _orders._ " _Sweetspark_ or  _Precious?"_

"Both of those, actually. What do they mean?"

"They are variants of your name." Eleanor was unsure whether to be touched or concerned.

"Are there others?"

Megatron deliberated before responding. " _Circuitsia_."

"I like that."

He laughed, startling her away from where she had been polishing by a corner of his lips. Before they shut she caught a glimpse of a silver tongue in his mouth.  _Huh._

"Do you near completion?" He didn't want her to fall silent again. It was rare that his glitchmouse of a mate crawled from her burrow.

"Yes." Thinking her tone was too clipped for safety, she added "Sir."

He contemplated protesting her address but decided against it. If it became habit she would be corrected.

"Do you require anything?"

"After this I'll need a bath. Thank you."

By the time she was done her hair was sticking to her back, neck and scalp. Her forehead was dewey with sweat and her skin felt damp. "There." His eyes opened and he drew closer to nuzzle her. Knowing that if she pushed him away she would probably fall to her death in the liquid below, Eleanor merely allowed him his embrace.

His gaze was soft and easy to hold. He looked for signs of unhappiness or fear and found none. Her palms gripped his nose and she laughed as his "breath" tickled her stomach. She didn't shy, but just stood there - not long ago she would have whimpered and cowered.

Soundwave had warned him that, due to the obvious power distance, Eleanor would always,  _always_ surrender to his will in the end; it was impossible for her to fight his wishes. How she would feel about surrendering to a certain desire was what Soundwave had suggested weighing before making a decision. This advice had kept him from placing her in his subspace - such dark confines would scare her. He had rejected the idea of playing rough with her. lest he lose the trust that he had grown in what he thought was a game but what she felt was a threat.

Cyberformation would be painful but she would be made to undergo it. This was the only concept that he had not dismissed for not fitting the criteria. Yet now, looking into her eyes, he could be sure.  _You are ready._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at this! Me being active and sticking to my update schedule?! Unfortunately, I think there will be one part left. Soon to drop!


End file.
